The Club Lounge Residents
Corrupted by comfort, integrity gone
they arrive at the promised land of safe
seats and leather club lounges,
conscience long dead and vision set
on the seductive
lure of lifetime gold passes
and self awarded superannuations.
They remember sentimentally
the statesmanship of their speeches
sincerity of their promises,
waiting out time and mass amnesia
to transmute errors of greed and lies
into wisdom and high intentioned
dreams.
Rising to creative heights with
platitudes of patriotism
and national security, to voting age ears;
anticipating complacently that
macho dreams of heroism and
glorious deeds will be fulfilled by
gullible gladiators.
From Olympian heights of their safe seats
the leather club lounge fraternity
squabble for the goodies of power
and national gratitude.
Margaret
Pearce
Margaret Pearce was a sickly child and an omnivorous
reader. This made for a harmonious and successful substitute for education, as
I didn’t spend much time at any of the schools I attended. Launched on an
unsuspecting commercial world as a stenographer/secretary I ended up as a
copywriter in an advertising agency. I took to writing instead of drink when
raising children, completed an Arts Degree at Monash university as a mature age
student and lurk in an underground flat in the Dandenongs still writing.
Tags:
Poetry