The Modern Condition
Joseph Veronneau
Let’s approach tragedy
like a screaming infant,
with no sense of
who we are
and covet it like a bible.
Let’s take the back roads
and turn them into
drug dens
so all dumbfounded poets
can rent the space
and shoot more dope
into their sunglass-tainted eyes;
content to watch MTV
all day long,
Satisfied to pick the
perpetual wedgies
in desert heat.
Gather your words,
I’ll gather mine
and we’ll recite them
in our heads
when days have grown
too short,
and round-up a grocery
or two
at the basement of
our lives.
