No Civilization Has Ever Called It Ugly Poem by RIC BASTASA

you get fed up
with woes

and sorrow watches
you
in that well folded
silence

another sadness comes
to you
like a black bird

on the window
it sings

its songs sting
your heart

and you pay respect
to its art
with tears

you get tired with all
these

and you wish
that all your brains
should have been
spent
on common commerce

but then you know
it well


money is not an answer
it can be the real
evil


you mumble like
a philosopher stripped out
of sanity


the power to
meet
Angst eye to eye
is Art

no civilization has
ever
called it
Ugly


and that is enough
to lull you to
sleep