Pithy Poetry

"My parent's worked,"
she told me over dinner,
as if my brother didn't,
as if health care's a privilege,
not a right.
But my siblings went to college,
where they stocked up on knowledge,
so they could find work,
but the system won't work for them,
So when she told me they deserved it,
I said "That is bullshit,"
and gave her a piece of my mind.
My sister's children get medicaid,
'cuz their dad can't get paid,
despite four years in college,
making the grade.
He's been measured and weighed
and found want.
And my brother, with his nose to the grind,
works all the time,
yet can't seem to find
a way to pay off undergraduate loans.
So he lives in a trailer -
don't you dare call him trash,
because he busts his ass
but our government couldn't care less.
So I said to her, listen,
I don't mean to be bitchin',
or moanin', groanin', or preachin' to you,
but I find it offensive
when you tell me your family
is worth more attention than mine,
So the next time you talk about health care
and welfare,
don't think about wasting my time.

-KMS 11/2007