Storms of pitiless
self love rage
darker all around
us each day. Is
this the blistering
WASTELAND of
the heart the poet
warned of? Listen,
you'll hear cries
only of ME,ME,ME
growing louder day
by day until, I fear,
one bloody sundown
all of us drown.
The wisdom posited here is so often ignored, yet narcissism can only continue to dominate one's existence until consciousness rears it beautiful head once again, and... it's always available, even to extreme Right thinkers.
I imagine that all humanoids are beginning to see the handwriting on the wall. All systems are shaking. But no one can cry that they haven't been warned as the global paradigm approaches. All the poets can do is scratch warnings in the sand and hope an unexpected wave doesn't obliterate the message.
r
Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader)
Reviewed on November 12, 2009
There seems to be a lot of this wasteland theme going round lately. Must be the fact we're heading into the greatest depression. I, of course, completely sympathize with this poem on all levels. ME, ME, ME will morph to WEE, WEE, WEE as everyone rushes down the rollercoaster of dstruction one last, fun-filled time!
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