Unlike a Sickle or Hammer

Unlike a sickle or hammer.

Bourgeois poetry

Expresses reality.

In a mysterious manner…

Unlike a sickle or hammer.

Workers toil

In their non-existence.

Earning the reality reserved…

For the rich wrapped in foil.

Machines without souls

Call to the church bells ringing.

The privilege sing to the sky…

The workers look to the soil.

Honesty and matter

The factory clatters.

Unequal is the distribution…

Indifferent is the manager.

Revolution

Sets the record straight.

Nature unfurls…

All receiving without question.

Adrian Chan-Wyles (14.8.2018)

Torquay