Thinking of what to post today, and Henrietta’s poem here really jumped out at me. Maybe it’s because of the changing weather, the slightly slower pace of the city streets, or the homeless man I passed by this morning in front of a handsome mansion. This poem is one that oh yes - in answer to Henrietta’s question – I can most definitely feel.
See If You Can Feel This
See if you can feel this?
Real as a cold wind and…
A cold wind that is out to blow.
As real as poverty,
But how real now is rich?
Is the wind in your face on a yacht in Monticello really different from
The icy, painful, stinging wind of a pissy New York alley
In a cardboard box of the homeless?
Is anything as real as poverty?
In a nation of excess opulence and decadence,
The cold-blooded obsession of riches and power are toys.
And now the successful raises up a standard of double-dipping
But poverty is real.
Nothing is as real.
Look at how
The USA gave financial bail-outs.
Now how many still woke up in poverty?
They went to bed 10/14/2008 kings of the hill
And woke up 10/15/2008 broke and lost
Without new jobs and money to deal with $2,000-a-day spas!
One foot in poverty and the other in Hell.
And as real as poverty, but how real now is rich.
And a cold wind is a cold wind all over the world.