They Tell Me
They tell me now
The economy is like a minibus
The small space for few
Carry the nation to work
And church, and school,
And the cosmic edge
Of life
The daring ones hanging on
From open doors
No inhibition
Or fear
From the contest of words
Tracing tongues tumult
In wreckless whim
And all the time they carousing
Pretending meaning
Bigger than empire
That minibus with capacity
Exhaustless
And breathless
Turns of wrecklessness.
They tell me
She holds her own in the third world
Bewteen Crossroads and Papine.
Copyright © L'Nass Shango | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment