This poem is for all of US who will be reaping the increasingly brutal repercussions of America’s race to forced austerity and disintegration of the common good…
Dead Beets: Owed to Austerity
“You can’t get blood from a turnip — meaning soully, just not, trying, hard enough.”
Capitalists
Are down
With whatever
Austerity gets
Blood from whatever
Turn ups
Whatever ground
Into dirt
Thou dust love
Blood and soil
Eugenics for vegetables
Of the pauper kind
Razing dead beets
That plotting fodder
Tricksters
Always able to pawn off something
Akin to blood
Fore the taking
