Left for dead

We starve
in war,
ration gas, grow victory gardens,
go without sugar, pretend
chicory is real coffee, deny ourselves
chocolate. We hope to survive
lack of hope to draw
any breath at all. We lie silent,
still as deer after a twig snaps,
in grave-like wait for death
to stop its feeding.

We gorge
in peace,
buy an SUV -- vote for those
who rape the Gulf, love BP,
dine out every week, expect ease
in some pink retirement home,
plan to keep our teeth. We believe
our children will visit,
share oily broth. We will be still
as geckos on the wall if asked
did we do anything at all.

Timothy Pilgrim