Nuclear family stands four abreast
stiff as a makeshift wall with certain
body parts numbered. Concave eyes gaze
past live children in corners. Sister
holds stop sign with fine print slavery stats.
Mother’s forehead focus shades sad eyes;
stomach revolts reading of trillions
raked in worldwide by shadow bankers;
box womb exposes firstborn grandson.
Towering above envelope he bears,
father’s blank eyes reveal no address.
From the 99% it says;
To tri-numbered open empty box?
He stands mute, waist-deep in global sea
of disasters and celebrations.
Brother’s hooded eyes and stoic stance
override the torn love sign he wears.
Will at least one child eye pair spot it?