Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
||||
Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:03:54 AEST | ||
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
Array
(
[sid] => 29509
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => ROT
[time] => 2003-12-16 14:32:02
[hometext] => The way of the world, I guess . . .
[bodytext] => Along the wharf the fishing fleets rots. There are no more fish, no more cod. A hundred hundred jobs, a way of life lost to greed and need and stupidity. The final crop from the back forty springs: Houses in senseless rows. Ugly houses slouching where once apples, wheat and corn flourished. Ugly, senseless houses sprouting mushroom like in the back forty, toadstools in grotesque array. Regimented, sterile, stifling dead... Sterile and dead the brown lands where once vital industries stood, too defiled to reclaim. Padlocked, they lie barren, rotting in the sun. Not master plan, nor commonweal, nor communal vision control this rot just the unfettered market forces: covetousness, greed and stupidity [comments] => 2 [counter] => 372 [topic] => 31 [informant] => aernby [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
|