First World
...And they
have ray guns to dry their hair
And they
sleep in beds above the floor
In sheets
made of cotton...
And they
have keys to lock their doors at night
And cool
cupboards for their food
- I think they
call them freejuice.
And outside
their houses
They park
their shiny Japanese cars
And trim their
grass with cutting machines
Not machetes
Leaving emerald green carpets
And they
keep photographs
Of their
children and their pets
In biscuit
tins -
Cats that
curl up in baskets
And eat fish
from cans
Fat dogs
that wear bracelets round their throats.
And in their
pockets
There are
wallets filled with crisp new banknotes
Filled to
bursting
So when they
visit the big shop
They can buy
anything they want
Anything at
all.
See that
aeroplane high up there
In the blue?
They are
flying in that -
Watching
movies and drinking wine
Going back
to their place.
Stunning and perceptive.
ReplyDeleteSo pleased you connected with this poem Marty.
DeleteYou have made me feel guilty. I was happy till I read this.
ReplyDeleteExcellent.
I know you are not a big poetry man Adrian so the fact that you read it was great but that it also made you pause to think is even better. Thank you.
DeleteWonderful and a bit of a shock to see ourselves this way. We all know ourselves - versus the rest of the world - this way, but in print....More shocking than anything else is what we do for and how much money we spend on animals that share our homes with us when there are so many PEOPLE in our world with no homes.
ReplyDeleteAdrian is right....it makes you feel guilty no matter how much you have worked and sacrificed for what materials you have.
As privileged westerners we often imagine those poor devils in the so-called Third World. I don't know how the idea popped into my head but I thought that maybe people in that other, poorer world would sometimes view us like space aliens from an entirely different planet. We take so much for granted.
DeleteI don't feel guilty, I think a time will come when the people - especially rural people - who are living without electricity and running water and other things that we who are presently privileged find essential, will have an advantage. It wouldn't take much of a disaster to make our cities useless and de-energize our electronic lives. We're living in a bubble. Someday it will pop, and the "meek" will truly inherit the Earth. They'll be the only ones who know how to survive. I love this poem.
ReplyDeleteI don't think I was trying to elicit feelings of guilt. Your theory is plausible. The way things are going - feasting on finite natural resources, polluting the oceans, breeding like there's no tomorrow - maybe your vision will come true one day. Thanks for contemplating this poem in your busy post-retirement life.
DeleteYep. You've nailed it, YP.
ReplyDeleteThank you Elizabeth. I hope and believe that this was an original way of poetically highlighting the issue of world poverty.
DeleteI watch a bee through the open door, busy on the poppies gently waving in the breeze. It is doing what bees do, happy in its own sweet world.
ReplyDeleteYour poem this morning has made me stop and think as I drink my early morning cup of tea.
LLX