Poem in-part inspired by a part of George Orwell’s 1934 book Burmese Days touching upon the subject of envy; in regards to the book contextually it’s about John Flory’s envy to Lieutenant Verrall gaining the eye and kiss of Elizabeth as opposed to he— even if only temporarily (for both of them)… It both regards the text and does not. It exists as a partial byproduct of it, but with added scribbles as it is only one part of the thought experiment…
“Envy is a horrible thing. It is unlike all other kinds of suffering in that there is no disguising it, no elevating it into tragedy. It is more than merely painful, it is disgusting.”
***
Empty in envy,What’s without pity?
Degenerate, senile
Techno-organic-cinephile
Endless semi-bile
‘Make the most of it;’
Drift downwind,
uplifting at constant bends
swerve,
no stop,
slight, sly-smile—
Emphatic, erratic—
Distinctive whim:
Fairly alarming,
only slightly jarring
Inevitably ignored Warning:
‘curiosity killed the cat,’
9 lives;
Raise to rays to raze—
Decay,
Inevitable delay;
“What’s in a name?”—
a delicacy;
Every-delaying,
changing but remaining—
Queer quotient;
inhumane introspection,
banal self-included seclusion…
Prelude;
Elude;
Beg to differ—
Give it a while.
*** ***
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