strolling through no man’s land
to get yesterday’s trash to the garbage man
too much on my mind -it’s hard to think clearly
city rodents the size of house cats
scurry with fear when they hear me
perplexed faces marked by life’s flash flood
search the entirety of my frame
through double pane unrefined glass
smiles don’t meet open eyes
when death decides to past
like sand falling through the hands of time
we are slipping away…
materializing in the thick of statistics
but never amounting to more than
a bean counter’s bureaucracy
staying away from work
and bringing home a fraction of the pay
force to deal with the consequences
of an inexpensive life forever on layaway
trying to figure out
what home is tantamount to a family unable to hustle?
dinner time with no daily bread
panhandling to survive life is a struggle
how to make due
in streets with no bustle
a city with no business is a town without muscle
but they still gotta eat
how can people stay inside
a house with no meat
they fight in the morning and bicker before sleep
politicians on a steady bank roll
set rules that’s poor folk can’t follow
without their tummies rumbling
and their accounts growing shallow
but the morgue is full
a man with the bare minimum is forced to live
by prescribed rules
is it possible… to deconstruct the master’s house
with his tool’s?
who is left to pay down the debt
incompetence allowed to flourish
low wages and taxed consumerism
crossbred with shards of mismanaged disenfranchised hope
stemming from the masses is the life blood
that keeps the US economy afloat
but we have been bleed dry
by years of recession and government turning a blind eye
bailed out every big business
except for the little guy… left to sigh at…
dinner time with no daily bread
panhandling to survive is a struggle
how to make due
in streets with no bustle
a city with no business is a town without muscle
but they still gotta eat
how can people stay inside
a house with no meat
they fight in the morning and bicker before sleep
© 2020 by Esha Montgomery