For what?
What do we give thanks for?
There is plenty
that's for sure.
Plenty of food
Plenty of space
But somehow
there is nothing
Buildings sit empty, empty for a decade
Around the perimeter of each of them are tarps
Tarps with bodies in them
Warm bodies, shivering with cold
Empty warehouses dot the landscape
For Lease they say
Year after year, speculating
And someone is beaten, arrested
for sleeping beneath a bush
Food from the restaurants and cafes, unsold
They make money throwing it away
locking it up
the thousands mill about
their stomachs rumbling
Tired of life
we should give thanks
for this subsistence?
Butcher your turkey and fill your face
Mine is filled with tears.
No comments:
Post a Comment