Jul 30, 2021

Bone-thin children, a wild-eyed mother


An odor in the streets, the smell of poverty.

Hunger. Fear.

In one slum they count their old potatoes,

In another there are no potatoes to count.

Bone-thin children, a wild-eyed mother,

And in the east? Donald Trump laughing

And tossing money in the air,

Money that isn’t his.

Hundred dollar bills with his face on them.

-jobe


LINKS -

thanks/jobe

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