THE HOUSE WE BUILT

Far from the best of times,

this blighted era we inhabit,

but we did our part in fouling it,

building on the rotten foundings

our forebears threw together,

this pile of misery that sways

in the winds of the growing storm.

Blame the architect and the mason,

blame the carpenter and the roofer,

all made their work in ill haste,

all were drunk with illusions,

all thought themselves masters of their craft

when mere apprentices were

building this pile of misery that sways

in the winds of the growing storm.

Hear the winds of the growing storm

rise, howling outside walls

through which their chill comes;

listen to the sound of rain

dripping through the rotten roof,

hear how this pile of misery

in agony creaks around us.

23.04.2020