Thursday, May 10, 2012

The Little People

The Little People, the grasshoppers of the world
Thinking, half asleep thinking—
From generation to generation duplicating
And reduplicating
Eating and laughing under the sun
Dancing and talking, gossiping, getting drunk—
Indulging; talk about the wise in mockery
(how they want to live on forever—think they’re
cleaver, better, because they’re wiser… )
Could care less of possessing the future—
Grasshoppers shrill, that is what it is called!
Piercing the simple truth, “We’ll all be dead,
Buried deep, muscle and bone, all alone,
Like stone, very, very soon!”
Not troubled until the day of ill repute—; like the
Grasshoppers, they have the same temperament—
       the little people.

#3347 (5-8-2012)