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Why do I feel uneasy
When I see a minister too well dressed
Preach from a pulpit wired for sound,
Or men in business suits
Who presume to speak for me,
When is enough for defense, Oh Lord,
When is enough?
Why does the day seem darker
When I see a bulldozer in the open field
With a pile driver nearby,
(Tall arrogant structures
Noxious weeds along the shore),
Or a homeless stray with anxious eyes
Motionless near an empty garbage can?
Why am I depressed by silly things,
Overweight women in orange pants
Old old men on tricycles Aliens
from another planet
Who travel aimlessly all day
In their own dimension?
Why do I feel jaded and spent
By painted clones in white coats
Who sell the trinkets
Of beauty and eternal youth,
The clouded vision of a sea
That yields its refuse
Of beer cans and pieces of jagged glass?
The days shall pass
People will walk in the afternoon sun,
There is still a beauty in their movement
A brisk purpose
As they rush to meet their destiny
In the sunset.
Yet why do I feel uneasy?
Jack Mashman
1982 |
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