By Unmarked Graves....
i read the labels of soup cans,
the poetry of mechanized food.
while children starve in the back seats,
of cars up on blocks.
and cell phones pray with neon glow,
to the souls of the fathers
buried in unemployment lines.
heartless bastards wave numbing flags,
guarding the border, masks and rifles cocked.
bars on the windows of pregnant schools,
where freedom unravels with sterile yawns.
the fields are quiet, bodies decompose...
crows pick fruit from trees long dead.
microwave Jesus's fill plastic bowls
with fingers severed from forgotten hands.
live or die, most choose death!
young lovers taunt roaches on motel walls.
the wheels of justice groan in the heat,
and darkness erect, prophesies.
the labels of soup cans,
and the brim of old hats!
leaving only tongues left naked
by unmarked graves!
Eric Cockrell's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (By Unmarked Graves.... by Eric Cockrell )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
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