Wednesday, 11 April 2012

The Cabinet of Millionaires Make Underclass soup

The carcasses

Of the Underclasses

are made into soup

Boiled flesh n guts

Sipped on silver spoons.
Blood sucked dry
through straws of gold
And skin
stitched into luxury leather
Prole bones
into aspic
Veins taut strings
For violins,
Teeth stacked
To build
Ivory Towers
Hearts ripped
Out for the heartless.

who say.....

"Let the profitless be discarded 
& let their lives be disregarded 
there's nothing in it for me
I care nothing for them
You see!!"

 Yes the cabinet of millionaires
sip underclass soup..........


Samuel Williams said...

I've managed to read through the first page (which is no mean feat on a Blackberry) and I agree with Mama, your poems are outstanding. You should definitely enter a poetry slam.
This poem is definitely my favourite.

Sam (Ginette's son)

Joanna Burns said...

Thank you very much Sam. Your comments are much appreciated.