Katrina’s Ark

The newsmen foretold Katrina’s wicked path.
SUV arks fled, heeding the gods of TV.
The criminally poor braced to deal with her wrath.
No credit card oars enabling their flee.

God doesn’t issue checks or ATM cash.
Green segregates the followers in his flock.
It’s why are some antiques, while others are trash.
Redemption for those who live on the right block.

The water rose quickly, her fury was swift.
Rooftops that once sheltered became the penthouse view.
To watch soul sacrifices caught in the drift.
Floating away, along with everything they knew.

And when it was over: the city at a halt.
The rich still pointed to the poor, “It’s all their fault.”