by Kris Patel
Why won’t you die
For what you believe in?
Why won’t you lie—
Sores ripe from a beating?
Nights, which deprive
Pockets depleted
Sickness of mind
Souls wander wide
Cardboard fans
Sit in stadium stands
And fake cheers
Pour through the TV
What other absurdities
have i entertained?
All of our news; spoon-
fed, and confused
Staring at abuse
Can’t find relief
i don’t care about
Creed and decrees
But, i’d prefer a clean ship:
Wipe the drool from lips;
Change soiled shirts;
And feed the hungry
Instead we flirt, flaunt,
And taunt, “Olé!”
What are the likes for,
If we’re spiritually poor?