To heat or to eat
that will be the question
whether to shiver with a gut full
of cold, cheap beans
or to yank the belt tight against the pangs
but at least feel your fingertips,
some will die, many not sleep
apart from those happy,
******* few

We trusted you with what we love
and you broke it

jammed a fat stick in its spokes,
overwound the mechanism,
twisted the arm at a funny angle
til it snapped

haphazardly snatched at the parts
applied inappropriate glue,
pointed to one or two others, then skulked away
pretending to have never touched it,
or even been there that day

even broken its worth can still be seen
with eyes that choose to,
heard with ears not deaf from
formless brays of sycophants
who may or may not be in the mirror

we will stickle it
every little bit of it
we will fix it like new new new