UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY


DECLAN TAN

everyman

everything became an everyman's
art, all the things that cost a man
his life before the mass
produced possibilities,
where craft was the moving of bone
not just for the food of souls
but filler for all the becomings.

now pens and writers roll
off their loosened belts, fat spreading
and cameras assembled
under sweat, for the dilettante army rising,
clawing copycats
paw over
paw,
eyes and aim on status and belief and custom.

all tools and all toys all available for all
dabblers,
where lifetime achievements are
pass-times
hobbies for the bleeding,
so buried are the hopes and dreams
of millions
(the passing fancies of created
desires)
now they are ALL fulfilled
now they are all due
heroes of circumstance
and victims of will
that build on tradition
with clever twists and
sneering word trickery,
never looking out
seeing it all burn
through the panes









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