The Ecclesiastes Moan

The Ecclesiastes Moan 

Quin McGlaughlin

10.12.2012

With such frequently fortuitous fortitude

I’m fortunate to forget my fickle fits

Of feigned forgetfulness amidst my ineptitude

For the four times or more that I’ve given in

What do I mean? What do you mean?

This mean symmetrical cemetery of seeming

Seething beseeching by my closest enemies

Imposing on me my destiny and other things

What do I believe? Why would I believe?

Things I can’t see seem more appealing

Than those I can see visibly which are appalling

Forgive my deafness, all I can hear is this calling

Why not defy these indefinite dreams of things

That can be seen and useless amassing

Those dreams are but schemes and trappings

To disguise the lie about living and what it means

Think. . .

Why not try and dare to ask why?

Like why do I work and why do I try

To climb figurative ladders and lie

About how I feel about my life

Why try harder to forget than to fix?

Until we don’t even enjoy our sins

We placate with anesthetic get-togethers

And converse modestly about the weather

They sacrifice true life to die well

Well, I’d rather die living and not a shell
Pray tell people, isn’t there more?

Teacher, what is worth living for?

This is the Ecclesiastes moan.


- Quin McGlaughlin