joey k poetry

I asked the robot
“What’s pain look like?”
And it drew me water.

I asked a man
“What keeps you safe?”
And he showed me a police man.

I asked the
government/cartel/‘terrorist’ soldier
“What are the tools you use most?”
and they all three agreed:
guns, bombs, and
clandestine psychological operations.

I asked the monk
“What makes you happy?”
And he explained the severance from craving.

I asked my mother
“What time is dinner?”
And the cold world bellowed out nothing.