Pandemic Pessimism
Pandemic pessimism
There is no such thing as society.
Forgo forgiving, forget free lunch,
Just plates of debt and toxic punch.
First come first served, no us, just me
Seeking survival in celebrity.
Self serving, Kentucky Fried Credit Crunch.
My savings eaten for breakfast by the finance bunch,
As bran flake banks crumble to muesli debris.
No shields against pandemic sneezes,
Flying flu to all locations new and old.
Green shoots perish in the feverish cold.
Global noses running from a world of weases.
Masked Mexicans wave wearily for Jesus.
Reporters coughing, colic, pessimistic woe.
Fragile families fall like sick dominoes,
Sickening symptoms, spreading diseases.
Good news rushes for the underground.
Talk show wisdom writes the scripts,
With hollow haikus and precripitive lists.
Tabloid vultures’ prey on fame newly found,
Warhol’s wisdom long enough, nothing too profound.
Paparazzi pursuing celebrities big brother missed,
X factor losers, B-listers, now being kissed.
Some rise, some fall, without a sound.
Where is the panacea in poetry?
What, prosaic potions can we really believe?
Written meaninglessness about nothing to achieve?
Nietzsche, Kafka, notes of Dostoyevsky?
Do I really want to be?
A pointless poet? Conspiring to conceive,
Of life as cruel; where I have been deceived.
Pessimism stays away from me.
‘Am I bovered’;do I really care?
For creative words, life’s of optimistic scribes?
Zimmerman singing ‘It is all good’; positive vibes?
New gurus proclaim there is nothing to fear ,
Answering questions I always held dear,
‘Blogging in the Wind’ as cynicism dies.
E- Poets rejecting Darwinian lies,
Finding meaning in ‘constructing authenticity’.
Copyright © George Bell | Year Posted 2009
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