Are we
Simply locusts
A blight
Plaguing the
Earth or
Perhaps we’re
The pervasive
Gnawing of
Hunger deep
In the
Belly of
A child
Or perhaps
We’re a
Glacier scraping
Resources and
Retreating once
We’ve had
Our fill
Are we
Not truly
Charged with
Change as
Poets aren’t
We supposed
To incite
Riotous inflection
With words
Why then
The imagery
Of angels
When we
In fact
Live amongst
The damned
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 