Crumbs – a poem

Appropriate poem for election day.

Kat Micari


We squabble over crumbs on the floor
While the big pile of money… oops… food
Sits on the table just out of our reach.
We eat self-help slogans,
Never acknowledging that this game
Of life is rigged against us.
Sound bites offer little sustenance.
We dance as the puppet masters
Pull the strings.
We follow the magician’s
Sleight of hand
And allow ourselves to be astounded
By the misdirection.
We obsess with details,
Refusing to ever see the big picture.
And we are amazed that we remain
Forever hungry.

From The Little Book of Insurrection or the Poetry of My Discontent
Copyright 2013, Kat Micari

View original post

2 thoughts on “Crumbs – a poem

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s