The New Bleeding Hearts Poem by Leo Yankevich

They're left behind:
the distant cousin
with feeble mind,
his wife who doesn't
pull up the blind,

both in the dark
with their bad genes,
while we, bold, stark,
spare guillotines,
and, in each park,

help mendicants:
the dazed and drunk
behind on rents,
shines who can dunk
but make no sense.

Like Stroop and Krupp
we tell no lies.
We prop them up
and sterilize;
give soup and cup

and wipe their eyes.