The Pragmatist

the popularity of the sun
that comes day to day is not the issue for now

it is the light that it carries
feeding the leaves that
feed the cows that feed us too

it is not even beauty
that golden sheen of its hands that reach upon the
breasts of the hills

the thighs of the plains
the lips of the waves of the seas

it is the food that matters
the survival of all who rely on the satisfaction of every hunger

it is not which
came first the egg or the chicken

it is that which satisfies the hunger of each stomach
that matters for now

never shall you write about
a sunset
or a sunrise

it is the frying pan and the oil
the egg
sunny side up and the fork and the plate

how long has this been
that you have become another selfish pragmatist?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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