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Dec 2015
frigid homeless shivering
on Bank of America’s
front porch step  

propped up by
oligarchic investors and
solipsistic one-percenters

and we pass by
in apathetic
self-absorption

we are brainless
enraptured  by smartphones
while the State bombs
our neighbors

mutilating children
sowing seeds of terror
with every abuse of power

we convince ourselves
that there's an afterlife
and raze Earth
as we raise hell

the only home
we’re guaranteed
infinite growth in
a finite world
consuming joylessly

inculcated
inane and
vain beyond
all measure

we’ve ravaged the planet
we will all die

alone
As I walked through the streets of Orlando on the way back to my car after a show, I saw a homeless man sprawled out beneath the awning of a Bank of America. This poem is dedicated to him.
Pearson Bolt
Written by
Pearson Bolt  Ⓐ
(Ⓐ)   
951
   Torin and MOTV
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