Showing posts with label #incomeinequality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #incomeinequality. Show all posts

Saturday, February 3, 2018

Who (Day 381)

who gets 
to have less 
I don’t want to 
think about 
who gets to 
have more
who stays or 
leaves who is born 
or is lost


(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: William McKinley campaign poster, 
ca. 1895–1900 US Library of Congress

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Silken Grip (Day 364)



When the hand lets go   the fingers 
continue to meet   forming an O of 
conspiratorial approval   a manual 
wink   and the glass tumbles to 
the carpet   the clink of ice and 
slice of lime giving voice to 
otherwise-silent sin    the street 
outside fizzes with traffic and 
surely-fascinating conversation   
if only she could hear more clearly   
and she strains her ears to make out 
the words   When the mind lets go   
thoughts continue to seep out onto 
the page   into a world embraced by 
the jumble of thrice-used plastic 
bags favored by the divorced woman
d'un certain âge who abstains from 
the silken grips of costly leather 
satchels   and the need to sustain her 
well-heeled husband’s grim-lipped 
approval   for the freedom to let go



(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Kelly bag
Wen-Cheng Liu/Wikimedia Commons

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Exurban Christmas (Day 312)

The aisles are all full 
to bursting, floor to ceiling, 
side to side, the walkways, 
like arteries, narrowed 
by excess, and yet 
just a few bags in hand.
A whole lot of something, or 
a whole lot of nothing—
it barely matters in this 
tumbledown, blue-collar town, 
where the aisles are all full 
to bursting, but there’s little 
worth buying these days.


(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Decadent Elders (Day 273)

decadent elders tucked 
  away 
in black cashmere 
     ghostly 
clouds of smoke 
and silken shame 
       swirl  
excuses ugly 
in their chests none but 
the youngest 
meet the eye 
          glimmer 
of voices cherished 
      proclaim 
sparkling raised 
   to block 
the noonday sun 
     without 
that special something fun  
   you just can’t live 
so generously 



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: The End of Dinner, 1913, Jules-Alexandre Grün