Thursday, June 24, 2010

DMT: Ten of Pentacles

crouch beneath the table,
    hidden and alone,
sit bent up uncomfortable,
    feel pain you've always known.

kneel beneath the archway,
    a door you cannot breach,
hold onto the crumbs of the gods,
    whose dice you'll never reach.

pray beneath the moon
    as it smiles down on you,
know it's laughing at the world
    as we think we're holding true.

shiver beneath the smokestacks,
    hot industry hard at work,
with a pain between your ribs:
    economy's uncaring dirk.

reach for the pawns
    until your hand's slapped away,
but keep on reaching for it--
    they'll forget you're there someday.

No comments:

Post a Comment