a farewell to reality
By seannelson
- 514 reads
Jobs peddling pizza and bagging groceries,
College classes on vorticism and Frankenstein, Dada and Ezra Pound,
Relationships and children all of which look better though the bottom of a Vodka bottle,
The mind trap of never-ending opportunities and duties to keep the vast Moloch machine grinding;
$10 art museum coffees; cosmopolitan glow and original Van Gogh's leading the primrose path to one-eared tenure in psychademia;
Oh, reality, you great non-fiction meta-satire, I have had it with you...
Let them cart me off in a strait-jacket; This is my farewell to reality
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This poem with its dark
This poem with its dark alleys and edges and its sharp rebuttal of the glittery façade, $10 coffees in a museum arrogant with priceless paintings of an artist who died penniless and defeated by torment from an art world that did not take note of the living talent, but certainly cashed in on the deceased one. I hear the frustration with deceptions and discordant conflicting messages. Low wage, student jobs and trampled dreams culminated in the anguished resignation of the final line.
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