Plight
by Odin odin@aflx.com — Read all 3,869 poems by Odin odin@aflx.com
A prose-poetry look at the constant reminder hopelessness so many face who have but their plight for comfort as winter storms continue. Meanwhile, 85 people hold tightly to more wealth than half the worlds wealth combined.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Plight
by Odin Roark
Pathos coated my hands
Like shoe polish dye
Like blotter’s ink
Reminding once more
Dumpster diving wasn’t me
I walked the frozen sidewalks
Picked up a starving dog along the way
He used me
I used him
Warm is good
Ho and Bo
I named us
Making another plea
We took to a street corner curb
Cardboard sign
“Anything helps – Ho and Bo”
Cars forever passed
Too busy squinting
Blizzard-blind windshields
Further enhancing excuses
For frigid disregard
***
“And… well… that’s it
Thanks for this”
The sidewalk stranger nodded
Gestured the cardboard box corner
Where Ho and Bo scrunched themselves
Above the sidewalk grating
Warm subway air vented upward
A homeless kind of salvation
A piece of winter heaven for many
As snow and wind buffeted the flimsy box
The stranger pulled his shag rug
A bit tighter around his legs
Offering some dumpster rewards
Of a lucky day
Ho nodded his head
Bo raised his eyes weakly
The stranger nodded a smile
“Take it”
Bo ate quickly
Ho nibbled to fill the time
The weathered box flap
Rising and falling with the wind
Holding his attention
The stranger lodged his foot against the flap
Handed the other end of his tattered blanket to Bo
“You sure? Could get colder tonight”
The stranger gripped his rug
Dug his heel in securely and nodded
“Probably right”
So went the night
Where one had become two
Had become three as one
Few noticed
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The little details are 'all there is' for these people and yet it is those details that the 'greedy rich' do not concern themselves with.
The implication within the exchange over the blanket is a real heart-breaker. One can almost tangibly hear the words... Makes no difference. We'll be dead by morning anyway.
But your poem is not about how to survive the cold streets. Your poem is about how the rich callousness, greed, and hoarding as increased the number of poor by millions and there is no end in sight unless there is a fundamental change in the way we view our economy. One that is so resisted by so many who consider people on the street and dogs on the street to be worthless.
Ron
in words has no limits.
Starting With Greed Mongering $
Bill Gate$ Microsoft-**Billion$
In His Privatised Tax Free Exempt
Foundation--It (He) Sucks Big Time!
* His Donations (So-Called)To Are
In Form Of Software C D s...
TRASK...
budd