Sunday, May 8, 2016

POEM: "Red Confucians"

Red Confucians

I lean towards the radio
(I'm waiting for someone)
I drive a taxi in Qufu
77th descendant of Confucius

around us the streets are lit
it’s the dawn of a new era 
exemplary model workers
at the end of their shift
the sun rises in the yard
and all so kissed by sorrow
the laughter of the rich
the neglect of the poor
I can hardly read a book 
now the fares are rising
and everyone is mad.

© 2016 Rob Schackne

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