Tribulation Aplenty

The best time to be alive,
not the best air to breathe
but bearable, for now.

Not the best anything, maybe,
I can imagine better,
but I can imagine worse by far.

Atop a mountain of history
packed with more misery
than we can muster.

Waving farewell to plague and famine,
dying in the night with no recourse,
most good for the most souls.

The news won’t say how many people didn’t die
from starvation that would’ve thirty years ago–
among a list of many unreported reverse tragedies.

The numbers of people not dying daily are so astronomical
it’s as though we reversed spin on the cogs of war–
let people proliferate rather than sending them off to senseless slaughter.

What a time to be alive.
Now, I’ll just get back to my
modern microcosm of tribulation aplenty,

and with relative remorse wish I hadn’t,
set down my cup so far across the room
before settling into this seat.

Daily poetry postings for your perusal. Scraps of intelligible thought Frankenstein stitched into a fabulous existential quilt. Feel free to talk poetry or philosophy with me--always interested in conversation and creation. >

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Posted in Poesy

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