The ready roasted chicken on its plate
The roast potatoes ,kale and podded peas
I’m hungry and I do not want to wait

Now I hear the clicking of the gate
The whisper of the wind among the trees
The ready roasted chicken on its plate

You’re never more than twenty minutes late
The trains are crowded, nowhere one can read.
I’m hungry and I do not want to wait

I remember you were working with no break
For nowadays  we ‘re electric in our greed.
The ready roasted chicken on its plate

So  love is hard in such un-knighted states
We want  acceleration in our speed
I’m angry  for there is no real debate

 

The country’s growing nothing now  but weeds
The Education sector is diseased.
The  cold ,gold roasted chicken on its plate
I’m hungry, but  for you I’ll always wait

 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/articles/68755/does-poetry-have-a-social-function

“I hope this does not sound like an exercise in ambiguities. If so, let me add another: one of poetry’s chief aims is to illumine the walls of mystery, the inscrutable, the unsayable. I think poetry ought to be taught not as an engine of meaning but as an opportunity to learn to live in doubt and uncertainty, as a means of claimingindeterminancy. Our species is deeply defined by its great surges of reason, but I think it high time we return to elemental awe and wonder. Such a position is necessary to our communal health.

I try to teach my students the full magnitude of what can happen during the reading of a poem. The readerly self, if the music and strategies of the poem are a success, fades away to assume the speaker’s identity, or the poem’s psychic position. Once a reader has fully internalized the poem’s machinations, she collects a chorus within her and is transformed. This ritual generates empathy and widens our humanity. These might seem like grand dreams, but it is just such a belief in the power of poetry that spurs my pen to action, whether I am getting paid or not. “