Arrêt

 

 

Not a single pleasure will come

from the money you try to spend:

what it buys you will rot in your hand,

turn to ash before your eyes,

press on your gut before it’s been consumed,

a useless burden dragging you to ground.

There is nothing you can do.

 

The food you tear from the reach of the starved

will nourish the worms to strength and health

as they grow toward the moment they feast on you.

No god you invent will decrease their number;

no special gift renders you unappetizing.

There is nothing you can do.

 

How delicate, how fragile your existence:

how powerless are you, who cannot live

without raping, without enslaving,

without swiping a chimerical claw

across the more real of your fellows.

You are an illusion no one else shares.

There is nothing you can do.

 

Every move you make brings you further from strength.

All worth from you absconds.  You are the seat of ridicule.

There is nothing you can do.

There is nothing you can do.

There is only one thing you can do.

 

You can stop.

 

                             -------- Marilyn Taylor

 

Marilyn Taylor is a commercial writer and poet of many years' standing.  She also consults, gives lectures and seminars, produces performance art, and contributes to the activities of the Pittsburgh Poetry Exchange.

 

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content © - Marilyn Taylor
Music: © - H P Chourasia
image source -  US State Department website