Poem: (Class)(War)(Fare)
It can’t happen here?
Remember the last
habitable hill swept clean
by friendly fire
*
The fabled elbows
of the Great lift crystal flutes
to overfull lips
while servitors fight
for droppings from the tight fist
of the Greater good
As treats, you get to
lick plates of cupcakes baked for
the littlest Greats
and watch the GreatMan
proclaim his litter’s right to
hog the public teat
No one’s getting fat
where food noise silences the
pangs of ill-fed prey
One iron diktat
rules this lawless-seeming land:
Eat or be eaten.
*
When it changed, it went
fast. One morning a fresh wind
rose and wouldn’t stop
