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Mark Clement Poem
Happy family on the billboard:
mother, father, darling child;
this prime apartment their reward
in modern geometric style.
Two bedrooms, one on mezzanine
with en-suite bathroom, air con cooled;
green river bank a space to dream,
for exercise a chlorine pool.
From high above the building site,
conductor of the symphony,
the guiding crane, positions right
each block, each beam in harmony.
Minions moving much like robots
lift and carry, lay brick on brick
in heat or rain that never stops.
End of shift they shower in public,
a ready smile though life seems tough;
steamed white rice all eat together,
in shelters made from scrap sleep rough.
Might they never dream of better?
Copyright © Mark Clement | Year Posted 2015
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Details |
Mark Clement Poem
Shall I believe that you are not like me?
A dog is but a wolf no longer wild,
and though you are a faithful friend, I see,
you are four-footed like no human child,
my boy; and though you answer to the name
the same the brilliant poet reprobate,
there somewhere in my brain is the refrain:
each species God did separately create.
But Wallace fed by spoon his little pet
orangutan, and longed to take her home
to England’s soil, where Darwin’s tree upset
conventional belief. And I must own:
that when your gaze unblinking holds my eyes
I know our likeness cannot be despised.
Copyright © Mark Clement | Year Posted 2015
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