by Kim Doyle
A street person begs for cash,
a woman with facial sores says hi to me,
I stumble on a corner filled with trash,
and report suspicious activity.
A hydrocephalic baby waves her hand,
children live without a family,
I taste water filled with rust and sand,
and report suspicious activity.
Millions die in every way,
raw sewage flushes to the sea,
I get my mail late most every day,
and report suspicious activity.
A President starts a war,
dead soldiers’ faces cry painfully,
I help my neighbor cut his lawn,
and report suspicious activity.
Kim Doyle asks: Just who is on the end of that suspicion hotline, and what do they think of me?
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