If they told you
The unvarnished truth
They’d have said
A man blew his brains out
Right where you’re standing.
If they told the truth
They’d have told you
Three children burned to death
Right here
On this very spot.
But they never tell you
Things like that.
They mop the floor
Rebuild the house
And try to forget
All the unpleasantries.
To be sure
They make a great show
Of battles and storms
But the private matters
Of people with names
Tragedies
And death dates
They want to forget.
I don’t think they do so
Because they feel anything.
I think they mop and rebuild
Because real estate has monetary value
And when you compare
Cash to causality…
Well, I suppose you know
How that shakes out.
If they told you the truth
They’d tell you
The whole of this old tired planet
Is an orbiting cemetery.
Bones pile on bones
Story covers story
But on they go
Mopping and rebuilding
As though nothing much matters
But fair market value
And location
Location
Location.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
How That Shakes Out
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Tuesday, June 02, 2015
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