Lawrence Sharp Poet Free verse

Go Forth, I

Having fed you a glut from diminished plates,
decayed chunks from long-dead mad cows,
vegetables bearing poisonous pips,
fruits possessed by invisible worms,
discreetly, yet not very discreetly, prepared
in a faecal, steaming pit in the ground,
where squalid vermin taunt the sweaty cook
with shrieks of sneering laughter,
and much of the offering is retrieved
from the plates of earlier peasants
(quite likely you'll not even notice),
they'll take back some of your coins,
both the valuable and quite worthless,
and prepare further diminished plates.
Perhaps they'll send your pained, corrupted flesh,
which you believe to be quite sound,
to fight blunderingly on the planes
a looming, villainous champion,
and from a safe distance
rain down on him with slings and arrows
before he kills you
but only after he's broken your bones.
They will yet rationally sacrifice your purity
as the daughters of Lot,
expendable for just cause.

24th March 2005

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Richard Lamoureux August 6, 2018 at 7:53 AM I never really understood Lot offering his daughters. This is a very interesting piece. I wonder who possesses this purity? Part of the shape of this poem looks like a pregnant belly. Perhaps the pure one is that unborn baby.