Foodbank Poem by Raj Dronamraju

You've got me questioning the universe again
An endless sprint that has already passed through the township of dissatisfaction
And is now edging around the dark borders of ambivalence
Twisted soul, dinner roll, take the yellow ticket
Your husband can't find a job

That had me gasping in shock at inhumane uncaring citizenry
which punctured personhood on a broken flagpole
Crushed dreams, baked beans, there's a sermon at 7 pm
This week's groceries are paid for by a grant from the Kiwanis Club

My passionate mistrust of an authority that allows animal self-centeredness to dominate
is the great winning argument for the golden flop of communal lack of community
Canned pears, not in my backyard stares, I recognize the fight we are born into