These Who Buy Stolen Goods Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

They do so in broad daylight,
Lit by the sun and blown down
by the wind. These people who
buy stolen goods from thieves.

I heard my mother say a thief's friend
is also a thief. I shudder at how people
are driven to take when they are supposed
to give and then steal from the poorest
of the poor.

Like running a food closet for the poor,
and eating the food yourself in their name.
Let the banks know we are not rich and
we still use food banks so that they
never leave us sucking our hands again.

For money likes those who like it better,
and those who need it most. It flows to
those who might one day do us like
they did in the past. They left the world
turning around wondering which thief
stood on which platform. We all walk
into the lines and and say, take from me.
We make ourselves willing to be the
one from life takes and not give.