December 4, 2024

A Poverty of Language*

Some of us peddle in poetry

In places impoverished of language,

Believing that the locals yearn for words

As ways to understand their place

Along the poverty line.

But their deprivation doesn't deter them

Or detour them from the margins

Where they gladly lap up

The meager resources their leaders toss their way.

When the means of production renounce

The very education needed for reason,

The powerlessness and insecurity remain

In these ghettos of understanding.

So some of us slog along,

Doing our best to provide the shelter

Of a thought or an idea

Couched in rhetorical fancy.

But no one stops to question.

No one even peeks from behind the drapes.

And the longer I happen to stay

The more I fear I'll end up with nothing to say.

*With thanks to Susan Jacoby for the phrase (The Age of American Unreason, 2008)