The Good Family Sings
By Gunnerson
- 786 reads
The good family sings of creatures great and small,
Of all men equal, and of forgiveness,
As the servant guides a herb-poked pig into an oven,
His arms still raw from last Sunday,
For pouring away the juice of a chicken.
The futures broker tightens his grip on African wheat,
And dines with friends who talk of better days,
Of the philanthropy they long to explore,
If only the world was not so damned competitive,
As the wild-eyed father is led away to a life of smashing stones,
For taking fruit from an unloved orchard,
To keep his spluttering children’s dreams from rotting.
The master steals time with gilded horse and carriage,
Suffering the pilgrimage to secure his maiden’s consent,
While gloating at faith with the full support of his will,
On the concrete bridge of muted revolution,
As the drunk and absent father looks into a pregnant cloud,
Seeing nothing but the emptiness of days to come,
Forever regretting the day he raised a fist to his wife.
The scarecrow princess chips bones on marbled floors,
Jealously observed by the mannequins she worships,
Wishing for herself the crown of the lifelike dead,
As she shreds dresses that make her appear sweet,
Praying that no other is so wastefully sick,
As the deserted mother skirts around a golf course,
Watched by gorillas through telescopic sights,
Carrying holey bottles of water tied to her back,
For the sea of faces whom she prays,
Have not been sapped on her return.
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Comments
Richard - I agree with Pia.
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New Blighters rock Wow!
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