and decrepit wastrel shelters,
yet this is a wealthy world still,
heaving its blood-soaked treasures
at their silken feet - they are here now,
the faces of civilization, and oh how
we fallen fallen fools yearn to be among them,
fellow feasters at the bottomless trough.
From this civil strait I would run, and run -
if only I had not fought,
defending that mindless devourer of tomorrow.
If only I had legs---
So watch them pass, beneath their parasols.
The starving multitudes are growing,
sullen, now eyeing me in their avid hunger.
I would run, yes, if only I had legs.