After Lorca

for M. Marti

The church is a business, and the rich
are the business men.
When they pull on the bells, the
poor come piling in and when a poor man dies, he has a
wooden
cross, and they rush through the ceremony.

But when a rich man dies, they
drag out the Sacrament
and a golden Cross, and go doucement, doucement
to the cemetery.

And the poor love it
and think it's crazy.

by Robert Creeley

Other poems of CREELEY (58)

Comments (1)

This poem is also posted in French, thank you for sharing! I am glad to find it in English also, now I understand it better. Indeed, the rich people have all the time in the world to let it melt away, while the poor needs to rush back to their working place and to the priest to get a great praise: Oh joyful hardship! How good you are poor man, keep working hard, for sure you will get a better life after you die, wait 'till you'd touch the other side.