deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Price of a Hot Meal
Hollow as a pauper's pockets
rotten as a potter's field
empty as a gypsy's locket;
defenseless behind a tin shield
bone thin as a starving orphan
dire as a beggar's need
roving as a mongrel or worse than:
a patron saint of Whitechapel's seed.
Haunted, sunken and sullen eyes
ravens caws, and raw meats bleed
wash the stones and scrutinize
silver shines under the red of greed
mean as much as tin can until hunger recants
live high on the hog when life decants.
rotten as a potter's field
empty as a gypsy's locket;
defenseless behind a tin shield
bone thin as a starving orphan
dire as a beggar's need
roving as a mongrel or worse than:
a patron saint of Whitechapel's seed.
Haunted, sunken and sullen eyes
ravens caws, and raw meats bleed
wash the stones and scrutinize
silver shines under the red of greed
mean as much as tin can until hunger recants
live high on the hog when life decants.
Published 28th Sep 2018
Author's Note
It's a very simple story. One who is hungry and poor and one who is not poor and not in the right place. The poor and the hungry kills the other to take their money and buy something to eat. The tin is the shield of a policeman, taken by our murderer and used in his life of crime often as he survives poverty and despair. Set in an early 1900's industrial era anywhere, America, London, a city it doesn't matter. Mildly dark enough to suit the theme.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 3
reads 454
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
28th Sep 2018 8:15pm
28th Sep 2018 9:10pm
29th Sep 2018 5:01pm
