"Libertad! Igualdad! Fraternidad!"

You sullen pig of a man
you force me into the mud
with your stinking ash-cart!

Brother!
--if we were rich
we'd stick our chests out
and hold our heads high!

It is dreams that have destroyed us.

There is no more pride
in horses or in rein holding.
We sit hunched together brooding
our fate.

Well--
all things turn bitter in the end
whether you choose the right or
the left way
and--
dreams are not a bad thing.

by William Carlos Williams

Comments (6)

It appears like the speech of a Neanderthal shaman to his tribe. This write is not a poem.
Doesn't sound much like the Williams I have known, but what a refreshing take on the income gap.
People attack me for my beliefs. I respond by saying you have no right to attack my dreams that's what this poem says to me
In the end, we all have our share of winters...
Patently belligerent preliminarily, retrospective in the middle, and concurring ultimately.
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