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(For quite the while now this poet has been pointing out that if the human race doesn’t “get it” on the last five percent of its planet’s free resources, it isn’t going to “get it” at all.

She’s about ready to start saying it isn’t going to get it. At all.

Still, it was a beautiful planet, and worth a noble try.)


Recorded Reading:



I have been here working
My planet and my brethren for
Seeing their potential
Seeing through that open door

With, shining bright beyond it,
True human community ~
Which now I have to say
I find unlikelier to be

Than did before I understood
That base venality,
Corruption, cowardice and craven
Timorous low obsequie

Supplant aught feeble striving
For each other’s any good ~
None of these can properly
Be called a “neighborhood” ~

But loose, jealous proximity
Of those who wish each other ill,
Or just beneath them ~ less than they ~
Call it what you will

Poets point horizons out
Closing fast, to no avail
We’re busy biting each other’s backs:
Call this experiment a fail


Among us, poets are ill paid. In order to continue her work, this one currently lives in her minivan, on an income of a fraction of our nation’s poverty level. If her work has moved, enabled or uplifted you, your contribution to this effort may be made at:



Published by Ana Daksina

Read worldwide half a million times, Ana Daksina is a Troubador of the coming age.

4 thoughts on “Fail

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