If there’s truth in it its congeniality fled silently, an
arbiter of good manners you might conjecture - if
you cared enough, tho’ that’s begging a question
of whose decorum was at stake; for art’s making
mockery too of well-bred social behaviour’s truth
that you’d wish to avoid - in more ways than this
travesty of consensual conviviality phrased in an
impartial way to sell the whole caboodle as gold
us wrong - then it’s a failure doomed to repetitive
affirmation and much to our chagrin won't matter
a mouldy centavo; - in the industry they all smile
taking their commission running & spend it again
and again, proving their gracious insatiability
© 27 September 2014, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment