The hatred of the poor, is it guilt
gone rancid? That the rich have
so much and still conspire to steal
a baby’s medicine, a woman’s
life, a man’s heart and kidney.
When those Congressmen talk
of people who are counting
their last change for gas or eggs
choosing between cold and hunger
they snarl. How dare we exist?
If they could push a button,
if they could war on the poor
here at home as they do abroad
directly with bombs instead of
legislation, think they’d hesitate?
The righteous anger fermenting
in them boils over in cuts to what-
ever keeps people alive. They punish
those who have little with less:
a vast legal bus to run us over.
– – – MADGE PIERCY
Madge Percy is a published poet and novelist. The poem above is republished from PORTSIDE news service