B: Xxxxxv: To What Purpose? Poem by Douglas Scotney
B: Xxxxxv: To What Purpose?
Humorous representations of life
(not the barely possible,
but
impossible scenarios,
like Baudelaire's labouring skeletons)
bear not just farce
but unjust resignation
in the face
of there being no guarantee
we won't live
for eternity.
I will plant his flowers on my grave, as the skeletons dig the labourers wave, they are unionized I pray.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 1:18:58 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I agree, there is no guarantee either way about living for eternity.