EASTER FEAST

when they sat at the bare table
the tyrants stood watching
knowing it was OK to see the hungry sit
with their empty plates
like beggars with open mouths
abused hungry hookers
and tired thieves

the poor at the table stared
at the quota of cracked shells
they were hungry for dinner
they were surrounded by birds
but had no turkey only water
they drank through rotten teeth
before it lost its taste

after the darkness of hunger
the endless hours of no turkey
the old poet gives up his words
picks up his spoon and knife
puts his plate of poems on the table
carving them up in protest
as the tyrants crack eggs eating turkey