Poverty Makes Ghosts, by Miki Byrne

Pared down like whittled sticks,
on food bank tins, people bleed poverty.
Accumulated cold from unpaid bills
gives a pinched look and faces hollow
from knowledge that few care.
Signs of scurvy re-emerge, along with
depression, malnutrition. TB.
Dangerous ghosts that haunt the poor
like headlines of ignorant times.
Yet our time, these times, know more,
have more and the powers that be
place a wedge between have and have not.
Criminalise, demonise.
Dance in backward steps to a time
that so many worked so hard to change.

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