Being forced to listen to Vivaldi by
a compilation of classical music, his
musical themes & unwavering beat,
his notes like stiff-necked soldiers
marching on with robotlike idiocy
drive me insane
Awakening memories of ALL things that
irked me recently, the contrast between
the delight reading Pratchett and being
enraged by Vivaldi-effigies led to the
suspicion there is a poem on anger
waiting in the wings
Meantime, these cold notes on the deficiency
of three-dimensional holographic images as
simile of reality made me reflect on life’s
shortcomings - but Men At Arms is lying
next to me, their mischievous irrational
levity is waiting
To grab me again and whisk me away from
inadequate, imperfect and painful reality –
up to the heights of cloud nine…
“Men At Arms” – Terry Pratchett, Corgi edition
published 1994
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice poem enjoyed it