Poetry: Hustle

-->This poem was published with the 'Suisin Valley Review' based out of Southern California, in their Spring 2011, 28th Edition:<--

Hustle

The movement is divinity hustling,
in the sky, on the tele, in the shrapnel burdened flesh;
in the broken eyes that were pointless for the seeing
and the hemoglobin tinting endless battlefields.

The pockets are for picking
And the smiles are for fixing;
Blindness is expected.

“Self-interest, self-interest” is the chant,
as the old calloused feet
of God goes shuffling by,
dancing atop the heads of
the faithless and the faithful alike.

All the millions camp
beneath their torn canvases
on the ever changing sidelines,
battered with the sound
of the war drums beating.

This skin grows
thinner and thinner every year,
pierced by the smirking of the deities
and the demi-gods of
the hustling world;

All those that know better than thou.