The Inventor Of Slavery Poem by Anthony Weir
The Inventor Of Slavery
Because all gods are now bred in gulags
wisdom is the slaughterhouse,
and knowledge is the scrambled
brains of screaming pigs.
Thus,
gasping in the air of mindful cruelty
in which we all are illiberally hurled,
I fight for breath
to curse the hatefulness of being
human (all too human)
and want my lungs to stop
- for worse things than mere death
await me and the whole wide world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 9:16:43 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I notice the next poet on today's list is named 'Sunny Sunshine.' This is vivid and painful. I hope things get better for you.