God gave us all fingers so we could point at you
when you’re not looking.

there’s a thick black circuit running through the room
and it powers these dim little bulbs
that half-reveal your half-concealed shadow on the ground.

with a bottle in your hand.
and excuses in your mouth.

God gave us all fingers so we could point them out
when you’re not looking.

there’s a thick black current flowing through the gloom
like garbage in a river
we’re seagulls drawn to pick our meals here.
you’re someone else’s victim
you’re someone else, so we don’t care
you’ll be our victim too.

God gave us all fingers so we could point at you.

And you’re not looking.
You never look.

Like a cyclone and an earthquake
Head is spinning
Hands are shaking
as you recommend a book on how to live a peaceful life.

I wish you’d read it.

I wish we’d read it.