Bert Horn

Modern Times - Poem by Bert Horn

A potted plant aping
nature sends a shoot
into the kitchen
where all things
have their parts
rubbed in mad jittering
to heat
how far we've come
from slouching
figures rubbing
shoulders in a cave
around a fire
but note the vacant stare
and shifting eyes of
current occupants
see fear at the table
don't tell me cavemen
paid no rent
the cat has simply
changed its stripes.

Comments about Modern Times by Bert Horn

  • (6/20/2007 2:06:00 PM)

    accursed, reverberating recess.. Yet the technological progresses we have made, humankind-wise, is undeniable. this was clever, keen, and lingering in the query. sjg (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Poem Edited: Sunday, March 13, 2011

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