There’s something missing in them. Not a hole
In brain or heart. Perhaps we’d say a flaw
in both, that lets them easily ignore
that others have a life, a mind, a soul.

There’s things they want. Money perhaps or power
or just to say fuck you to all of life.
They take it with a bank, a prick, a knife.
Gloat minutes then are hungry in an hour

And do these things again. It is their right
they tell themselves. She brought it on herself
the poor are lazy. They’re the source of wealth
of order manhood God. So, every night,

they turn their skins and raven. Wolves again
who tricked us into thinking they were men.


About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to ENTITLED

  1. gonzo21 says:

    Strange, I do not believe in the embodiment of Good in this world, but I certainly believe in the embodiment of evil. And it’s there, in those wolf-men.

    Superb poem as ever.

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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