When only a half-inch glass separates by Vinci Bueza

cool, sanitized air
in an otherworldly box
reeking with belches and half-digested fries.
in an unseen magic-gad
getbritney spears spews:
polluted poetry

outside:a homeless child
begs for bones,
an hour earlier had been
the happy meal of a lucky child.

he knocks at the glass.
the couple inside feigned dumb.
or is it their hearts that're numb?

meanwhile:
a fly zooms in -and munched at the unsuspecting
couple's melting ice cream.
if only the child was a fly.
or better;
if only there is no glass that separates,worlds,and hearts.