The writings of Oddpoet

Sitting here

smok­ing filters

feel­ing disconnected

And…

Find myself on a

city street walking

feel­ing my age

won­der­ing when the color went out of the world

where all the magic went

Met this junk yard dog

our eyes met

and we both agreed

we were all pretty much

Fucked

He told me

Gold­man Sachs and Citibank

are a pri­or­ity for the flu vaccine

I told him

uni­ver­sal health care

will never be passed

we both agreed

we were all pretty much

Fucked

I said if food deliv­er­ies to markets

stopped for 30 days

we’d all be cannibals

he said

the home­less

will soon out­num­ber the sheltered

we both agreed

we were pretty much

Fucked

He said

vio­lence, ter­ror, injustice

are accepted

expected

nor­mal

I told him

a man is now judged

by what he has

Not

what he holds in his heart

We both agreed we were all pretty much

Fucked

A man came out of a shack

mid­dle aged

an air

of morose bitterness

of too many

unful­filled yesterdays

walked towards us

and kicked the junk yard dog

“Get off your ass and look mean you mangy mutt”

“what am I feed­ing you for?”

the junk yard dog

winced

wagged his tail

and looked at the man lovingly

The man eyed me suspiciously”

“What your selling”

“we ain’t buying”

and walked just out of view

The junk yard dog looked at me sheepishly

“He don’t mean it

I know he loves me”

The junk yard dog

his ribs show­ing through his

unkempt coat

walked away

a bro­ken growl

sound­ing more like a moan

painted the sky slate gray

I walked away…

in search of the miss­ing Sun

Tags: Flawed, life, Poetry, social unrest, society

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