by Ophelia Knight
I / have come to a halt / here
the men are thin with yearning / not the kind that you remember
the kind that lingers in bones when they are no more / dust in wooden boxes plated in faux silver
6 days I have walked / on the 7th
I rested / stole their welfare checks from unmarked posts & called it mine
Who dared to stop me? / I ventured into your city and broke bread with
meaningless bodies
learned their names and left crumbs behind as a thank-you
smelled their wounds & became an officer of the law / witnessed various protests and laughed when fickle resolve turned to fingers scrolling endlessly on cell phones
I have seen the homeless in your city / know now that you do nothing when pain is prevalent
how easy it is to have you. how feeble it is to taste your ideals. There are regrets / we are touched starved into submission