Temple Of The Self # 3 Poem by Eric Cockrell
Temple Of The Self # 3
computer technology,
living like machines.
skyscrapers, housing projects
swallow up the green.
spray your food, get a pill,
walking in a dream.
safe sex, forced abortions,
and nothing is obscene.
and the sound of the heart
shakes the ground.
hunger burns, the sea churns,
and babies drown.
you pray to God,
but your prayers fall amid the furor.
in the temple of the self,
bowing down to the mirror!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 7:12:04 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
And this is the modern world. I think it's a horror, too.