IT DOESN’T MATTER IF

It doesn’t matter if you were just born

or if you’re dying

you have to sleep at night

then you wake up    the sun

insists no matter what

you turn even in sleep to light

all day will then furiously begin

your children will require bread

you may have to fight

to obtain it from the greedy owners of grain

who had learned how to grind it into gold

the old ones say there is food for everyone

wealth in the earth    but famine lies down

in its old green field    blight

in their last sleep the mothers moan

what of the child she must be fed

ah    in their ragged shrouds they hid

pocketfuls of ancient seed

inheritance against the coming night