Hollow men of the global indebtedness machine

Lawrence Alfred Powell

Avondale, Auckland, New Zealand

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Artist's Description

The Hollow Men
T. S. Eliot
-————-
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Artwork Comments

  • shadowlea
  • Christine Lake
  • Sheryl Gerhard
  • debarlene
  • shadowlea
  • Susan  Kimball
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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