The Discoloration Of The Present Day Poem by Raj Dronamraju

What caught my attention
While waiting for a traffic light to change
Was the feet of an old man
On a motorcycle next to me

They were swollen, straining against his sandals
Elephantine, purple like overripe eggplants

And I shuffle towards the calendar to cross off the completed days of the month
The politics of discomfort discolor the present
Bring me home from work in a portable bier

Can't make understanding of robbery practices committed against life sink in
Can't improve the health of those who move between toxic toil and grimy apartments

Pustulent rat race, swollen rotten limbs
Rub your sore joints and extremities
The taxidermist stops you from striking yourself in the head