Against The Spread

Basement bent
are them that count

the bodies popped
and bubbled out

bloated blistered
posed and snapped,

puzzles that
scratch our heads

shuffle us
from foot to foot.

They zip the bags
collate the stats

aggregate
the autographs

estimate
the columned dead

whilst sky-screened
and cloud-wrapped

stretched on power
buttoned beds

are them that bet
against the spread.







Poetry by Ray Miller
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Written on 2025-03-06 at 10:31

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Ray Miller
Thanks Allen. Your take is not that wide of the mark. I remember it was written during Covid, some kind of diatribe against the pursuit of private profit versus the needs of public health. But to be honest, I don't understand all of it myself.
2025-03-07


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
I've read your strong poem a couple of times and have come to the decision that your are describing and criticising how people can detach themselves from the horrific realities of death and violence, treating them as mere data points in some sort of game; whilst the powers that be are reduced to virtual commodity traders. It is a powerful critique of what is going on in our world, and I would say worthy of accolade.
Blessings, Allen
2025-03-06