I search in vain for the fire of love.

The Cloud of Unknowing drifts by

as tormented faces of the hungry,

padlocked in a prison of poverty,

ask “Where is God?”

Drug-dealers in love with bullets,

swindlers and sadists, insider traders,

gamblers and pimps, money lenders,

human traffickers, and public corruptors,

all here to stay.

Like pythons with smiling faces,

we hear the braggadocio

of Maserati owners planning

their next cruise after skewering

the innocent with Ponzi schemes.

They’re vampires who drool

over tender-necked souls,

despots with nerves of titanium

and volcanic-rock hearts

who murder millions

because it’s only a statistic.

Noble visionaries go to prison

for a just cause and good people

set themselves on fire on steps

to nowhere.

Buried under a landslide of cascading shit

we shiver in billionaire sewage

as Old Glory flies, gold ducats fall from the sky

for savage and ruthless guys with big pricks.