Impotent Men!

impotent men...
their hands on the reins,
choking on the flesh

of the poor and subjugated.
while birds of prey circle,
bodies strewn on the streets;

another martini, stocks rise and fall!
the pipeline pulses, liquid death,
the eyes of the children

gone to marbles in the dust.
the prophets of profit
tilt their hats and turn away,

leaving the stench of their greed
on unmarked shallow graves.
their god is dead, the world keeps turning,

while the weak and the fallen
kneel in unholy prayer!
impotent men, beating their chests!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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