stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 19100
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2018-08-03 14:36:23
    [post_date_gmt] => 2018-08-03 14:36:23
    [post_content] => dips his spoon into a bowl of cornflakes but his heart isn’t in it. this is what society has done to us. he reads a newspaper about a war somewhere else, probably in the east. they don’t do that sort of thing here. here the war is internal. the newspaper says:

he had become a savage
and sometimes wished
he commuted to work
as the civilised. man
has been conquered
when you know the sky
do the stars look
of liberty? how? wretched
part of the pogrom,
does it taste bittersweet being?
tell me, now
flesh and smoke
in an abattoir, all
just for show. underneath
you know it’s
gold and gleaming.
everything is metallic
the prosthetic god
humanity has become.

but then he turns the page and it says:

humanity has become
the prosthetic god
everything is metallic
gold and gleaming.
you know it’s
just for show. underneath
is an abattoir, all
flesh and smoke
tell me now
does it taste bittersweet being
part of the pogrom
of liberty? how wretched
do the stars look
when you know the sky
has been conquered?
as the civilised man
he commuted to work
and sometimes wished
he had been born a savage.

he turns the page again and it simply reads:

are you happy?
    [post_title] => the civilised man
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => the-civilised-man
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2018-10-17 13:19:14
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2018-10-17 13:19:14
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=19100
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2018
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the Civilisation and Its Discontents challenge, inspired by Freud's work of the same name, on Young Poets Network (YPN) in 2018.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Civilisation and Its Discontents challenge
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 16715
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Marina McCready
            [slug] => marina-mccready
            [content] => Marina is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2017, and a commended poet in the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2016 and 2015. She is a 3rd prize winner in the Nearlyology challenge on Young Poets Network and is highly commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2017; she is commended in the 2018 August challenge #4 on using the vernacular in poetry and the Civilisation and Its Discontents challenge on Young Poets Network, inspired by Freud's work of the same name; she is also the winner of the Greys Court Palimpsest Poetry Challenge.
        )

)
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 16715
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Marina McCready
    [slug] => marina-mccready
    [content] => Marina is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2017, and a commended poet in the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2016 and 2015. She is a 3rd prize winner in the Nearlyology challenge on Young Poets Network and is highly commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2017; she is commended in the 2018 August challenge #4 on using the vernacular in poetry and the Civilisation and Its Discontents challenge on Young Poets Network, inspired by Freud's work of the same name; she is also the winner of the Greys Court Palimpsest Poetry Challenge.
)

the civilised man

Marina McCready

dips his spoon into a bowl of cornflakes but his heart isn’t in it. this is what society has done to us. he reads a newspaper about a war somewhere else, probably in the east. they don’t do that sort of thing here. here the war is internal. the newspaper says:

he had become a savage
and sometimes wished
he commuted to work
as the civilised. man
has been conquered
when you know the sky
do the stars look
of liberty? how? wretched
part of the pogrom,
does it taste bittersweet being?
tell me, now
flesh and smoke
in an abattoir, all
just for show. underneath
you know it’s
gold and gleaming.
everything is metallic
the prosthetic god
humanity has become.

but then he turns the page and it says:

humanity has become
the prosthetic god
everything is metallic
gold and gleaming.
you know it’s
just for show. underneath
is an abattoir, all
flesh and smoke
tell me now
does it taste bittersweet being
part of the pogrom
of liberty? how wretched
do the stars look
when you know the sky
has been conquered?
as the civilised man
he commuted to work
and sometimes wished
he had been born a savage.

he turns the page again and it simply reads:

are you happy?