In This Country

I've become ill-at-ease in this marvelous country;
A growing malaise is bringing me down,
Here, where blindfolded citizens march
In jig-tracing patterns of Brownian motion;
Where every last woman-man-child needs a mansion,
Two autos, ten handbags, and bundles of cash;
Where earning and spending are ultimate pleasures,
And distractions consume useful thoughts and deeds.
While we squabble about petty tit-for-tattery--
Who sits on the foredeck and who near the stern--
The greater ship, say it's our aggregate vessel,
Is tilting and sinking. O hark! The band's playing
A toe-tapper: "Nearer My God to Thee."
But where might I go? Any modern nation
Is infected with vices as vile as our own,
Or darker, or stranger, or deceptively placid:
The calm before the proverbial storm.
No, the whole planet's wrecked, and the lifeboats are leaky;
The problem is rooted far deeper than race,
Or faith, or fiscal-political slant:
The germ of destruction is planted in everyone,
And competition exceeds mere survival;
We all are weeds destined to kill off our species.
I've become ill-at-ease in this blight called humanity.

Reviews

[Irisala]

Is rich in words but need more esence, is my personal opinion.