This Business of Living

 

The vapid churning afire

Gurgling streams with desire

Sumptuous,

Endearing,

Enticing,

Beguiling,

                                                   Monotonous.

This vapid churn

This rapid turn

Moving in circles

This selfishness

This crassness

This bitterness

Yonder and yonder

Like a lamp lit

Below the stars

 

All the innocence

Charred to death

All the pretence gone

I see my folks

Striving

                       rapidly

                       firmly

                      confidently

                                         towards the cesspool

                                                                         Of muck and dirt.

Confident, brash, crass, vulgar

The accumulation has started

The vapidness of it all

Such is the system

Ready

                    To embrace,

To encircle,

To enslave.

 

All this muck and dirt

At times confounding

At times bewildering

At times bewitching

At times murderous

With constant assault on soul

Trading peace and goodness

with scraps

Of some currency notes,

And some goods for comfort

 

But is there no heaviness?

In heart

Or on the soul

Or the Unbearable lightness of being

Has evaporated it all

The innocence,

The goodness,

The purity

 

What will remain when all this is gone

This business of living

Of surviving

Of being a part of the murderous mob

Will extract its price

May be some day

The soul all hardened up

Will give way

Till it has lost everything

And has become a part of the crowd.

 

This vapidness of it all

When I would have murdered myself

Completely

Staring at the blood oozing from my veins

Flowing into the muck

When my blood becomes one with the muck

And the muck becomes one with my blood.

Then I shall freeze

To Death