Saturday, September 14, 2013
The Superficies of Servitude
Part Four: Class Act
“The superficies is the world.” – T.S. Eliot
Inimical truth? Why not?
If signs are artifice,
And only that, then face
The placid, flatulent rot
Of imagined fact: “We thought
You grew up in a house
Troughed with books and mounds
Of residual bon mots.”
Rosaries, Navy issue-
Ligorian, The Guns
Of Navarone, and artificial
Ice milk glowed like icons.
For years I’ve minimized
The maelstrom of this rift.
The work that others shirked
I muscled up as heft,
A cunning counterfoil,
Pretending to be nice
In hierarchy’s toil
Of munificent class.
About Bill Mohr