Most men, maligned, manage their wealth
An end in itself; collect,
Count, clutch it, a metric of health,
Rooted in the ground and kept
In account, foreign to nature;
Men berate men without love
And act as lord of the creature;
Set straight by the Man above.
My peaceful property rocked raw
By hard, scattershot hail stones,
Speeding down, pelting; I clenched my jaw,
The repressed gut moans and groans
Goaded by a lack of control;
Helpless, hapless holder of
Idols acquired to lift my soul;
Set straight by the Man above.
Gary Edward Geraci
The cry of the bourgeois in Central Texas, where affordable automobile and home insurance only begins to be affordable at $1000 plus deductibles. The drawback, it seems as of recently, there are 3 to 4 hail storms during the spring/summer season. Who’s in charge now? I pray the Man above. Oh yes, there is a spiritual point to this poem and it rhymes with attachment and looks good with “de” attached to it. This one is written in an Italian verse form known as Canzonetta Prime.
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