B.R. OTHER

A rain of great ferocity,
A cold and pelting deluge,
Pours from the bluster of a grey, black and bruised November sky:
Milwaukee's gutters are cleansed;
Down its sewers, wash the collected trash and fallen leaves....
I am B.R.Other...
Unemployment breeds disappointment,
And I now view the world through an entirely different lens.
"They" screwed all of us,
Many hundreds-of-thousands of us--
Times many tens:
Victims--all!--of tax-loopholes,
Lax "poopholes"
And all the "disparagers" of we.
"We":  Owners of unlighted lamps,
Humble collectors of food stamps--
Givers to the "elite" of a belly full of cramps!...
B.R.Other...
Seer of sneakers dangling from overhead wires and bicycle tires in trees--
Always reluctant buyer of crap made by the Chinese--
Victim of jobs being shed by this country like some dog shaking off its fleas!...
For "them", what a sweet treat:
Stealing our work and, from our mouths, our meat;
Causing to roar down our throats, instead, only empty heat
As, like some out-of-control train on a collision course with a wall--there went Main Street!...
I am B.R.Other:
Father of a son,
Son of a mother--
So, please, if ever you meet me on the street--just call me "Brother".