1984/2017 Poem
1984/2017 Poem
My fear too
would be rats.
I can’t even write
of the pinkish paws, bucked gnaws–
Oh, Christ, what is happening
to my country?
What cage are we locking
ourselves into, what mask is strapped about
our temples
so that even as we cannot
look away
we cannot save
ourselves.
That type
of mask.
***********************
55 word poem (minus the numbers) for Kerry’s prompt on Real Toads; prompt based (if desired) on George Orwell’s 1984, specifically Winston’s greatest fear. Graphic is mine; all rights reserved for it and poem.
Explore posts in the same categories: poetry, UncategorizedTags: 1984/2017 poem, flash 55, hate rats almost as much as Winston, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, manicddaily, sad for my country
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ManicDDaily 
February 5, 2017 at 11:46 pm
ugh.
well, I’m not going down without a fight, K. it may come to that… but some things really are worth fighting for (and against). ~
February 6, 2017 at 6:03 am
Yes, yes, what kind of world? What kind of torture is this?
February 6, 2017 at 9:41 am
Oh dear, it’s like an accident you can’t bear to see but can’t manage to look away. Well put.
February 6, 2017 at 10:21 am
That mask is something I’ll never forget, and using it as a motif here and now is very telling of the way many people are feeling.
February 7, 2017 at 2:01 pm
I feel the “suffocating” – great use of words.
February 8, 2017 at 5:10 am
Yes, K, the rats are prolific right now. Those cities of old rebuilt, my hope is that we can start again in two years. Four? I’ve had one session of dealing with rats. They DO NOT sleep at night. I kept a light on and the generator going all night, they didn’t scare away. I could wake and see them running along the exposed wall 2X4’s.
Our biggest rat has to sleep but he surely does get up early to send out his Tweet orders of the day. Scares me much more than the rats on the rafters.
..
February 8, 2017 at 6:27 am
I hadn’t thought of that before…but I will now!
February 12, 2017 at 10:41 am
The way we are coerced to hatred, the times we live in, conned to division. It makes me choke.