Conglomerates control the corn
unconcerned with who’s a husk
they only sniff when stalks are shorn
for monetary musk,
oblivious to growling guts
and sunken, hollow eyes
they cultivate unyielding ruts
with hopes the price will rise;
these moguls of the upper tiers
could care what cause is born
our voices fall on deafest ears—
conglomerates control the corn.
6 comments:
Why use it for food when you can make fuel with it? Another commodity.
What's a few million hungry souls mean to the conglomerates compared to the price they can get?
Nice writing, Bob.
I love the way you play with words and still get your point across...Sad but true. :)
very nice play on words and play with words - esp like the title ... as Shirley said, "sad, but true"
Richly worded poem, Bob. Food for profit is a sad human reality
Brilliant! Ticks all the boxes for me.
I'm so glad no one thought it was too corny ;^)
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