M3 Poem by RIC BASTASA

On certain compromises
we agree on a certain indifference
we may not let them know
that within us are the wounds
that never heal
the broken pieces beyond repair
but everyone in this big house
shall never know
what is real what is true
for they must survive just as we
want them to live well
we feed them fabricated dispositions
longer lines of smiles
well trained caressing hands
eyes without any conscience
the incapacity to tell which is
right and which is wrong
and they must believe that
there are no termites on the
ceilings and the walls
no cockroaches in the cracks
of those kitchen sinks
no scorpions underneath those
wooden floors beneath those
foul foundations

'well done' says the law.
we are just behaving that way
good citizens of this republic
deal with usual turmoils

'we are always ready to sacrifice'
we tell them with uniform cliches.