Blessing No One
We are at war
with ourselves
since we cannot be at war
with others
claim a peace
beyond borders
but an occupation
within
all created =
striving to become ≠
by stabbing a knife
between two ribs of otherness
one’s dollars do not stack up
to another’s dollars
the larger stack
repeatedly takes from the smaller
if not wealth to distribute
the poor ask about income
displaying their poverty
of thinking as well
we build cheap houses
by freeways
so the cost of living
enslaves
we gather cheap fruits
per-fumigated
hallucinatory
if you don’t inhale
whites fear
a lost society
blacks
have never found
whites fear
a loss of advantage
browns
have never gained
whites fear
a moral degradation
they were never inclined
to keep
a person in a tent
is no nomad
but mad, stripped
of sex, a no-man
counted on
but not relied upon
fed
but not nourished
one’s overpass
is another’s underpass
unless the other
cannot pass over
course the verb
of blood running
coarse the hand
that makes the bleed
we bless everyone
and thus no one
words evaporate
before hitting ground
About the Poet
Jeff Burt lives in Santa Cruz County, California with his wife. He works in mental health. He has contributed to Williwaw Journal, Rabid Oak, Heartwood, Kestrel, and Tar River Poetry. He won the 2017 Cold Mountain Review Poetry Prize.