On Blackouts

the guys up there
are on it again,
thinking how to
keep the biggest
slice of the pie
while we on the
lowest part of this
ladder keep praying
for the morsels
crazy world of
corruption
on blackouts like
this
i keep myself cool
on a bamboo bed
under the shade
of the mahogany tree
there is nothing to
consider
anger, a revolution,
i am too old for
that
perhaps another
story
another kind of
exploitative
poetry
perhaps...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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