Begrudgers

They would shame us all if they could
For comfort
feed us bleak white bones
boiled dry until the pot bottom screams
just before it hisses
turning to a snake in spite

They would
solemnly arrange
the details of our lives
cut kindling for their jealous fire
pointing fingers at the smoke
while they toast our names
with poison
dance in the rain and smile

Better to play dead
or act deaf
to disappear & pretend
we're blind

And if they notice
(how could they not)
the new Mercedes
lolling in the drive--

Don't even
breathe
a word