Poem: A Conversation I Heard

By: Andrew Openshaw

conversation

We’re in a decadent spiral
He claims.
How dare you threaten all we’ve made
With your lousy, languishing,
Liberal ways.
Look around you man,
There’s no experience here.
Granted there is a lot of
Fear
But entertainment too.
Surely that is precious? Even
You like a good escape.
Every inch of land has been raped
By money – the
Adverts are your Gods now!

Don’t try that one
He replies
I know there’s space
Out there, somewhere
And I intend to find it, before
You and your hordes
Even attempt to try and
Define it.
Go on, call me young and
In-experienced, at least I desire
Something beyond, this
Static interference.
A digital perception, not for
Me, unlike many of my kind
I believe that I’m actually free.

Oh, but your youthful
Charm does pleasure me and
others alike.
You will learn in time
The dish of
Life is
All but gone
Now.
What they used to call
Our meaning, our
Essence,
Belongs forever in
The past tense
Seasoned with
Irrelevance.

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