See that satan pollarding a tree,
That geometric man straightening a road:
Surely such passions are perverse and odd
That violate windows and set the north wind free.
No doubt tomorrow the world will be too straight.
Five hundred miles an hour will churn our dreams
Like surprised whales, when we lie a dead weight
In an ignorant sleep, and things will be what they seem.
Tomorrow we will hear on the gramophone
The music of the Spheres, registered H.M.V.
By a divorced contralto: we shall perhaps
Meet Adam under glass in a museum
Fleshless and most unlovely, complete with pedigree.
Or else, tomorrow, workers, kings and crooks
Will all have aeroplanes and be fast friends,
In a world no longer divided by dividends,
Where love will be almost as simple as it looks.
Francis Scarfe's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Progression by Francis Scarfe )
- Indulgences, Jayatissa Liyanage
- From The Balcony, Heather Burns
- Ang undubai, Shri R Brahma
- 10 January 2014, Shri R Brahma
- October is next to September تشرين الاول.., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- October is next to September, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- I feel bored, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- 30 September 2014, Shri R Brahma
- Praise God for that Touchdown (only if Y.., Joe Rosochacki
- Mablaba baogargwn be jaya, Shri R Brahma
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)