another one. thoughts?

A Plague Ship Signals
“All Is Well, All Is Well”

I fear that I have been dishonest
with you myself and the young man
on the street this morning
for every time you have asked
how are you
is everything well
always I have smiled
answered with a lie
and returned the courtesy
ignoring with practiced effort
the poverty that lives
somewhere near
my solar plexus or perhaps
behind this cage of bone
that has long held wild
an all-trumping beast of a heart
pitching a fever for release
hungry for God
knows what
maybe a morning untroubled
by certainty when rising is all
you can be sure of or maybe
to upset the dreams
of the old philosophers
tracing patterns in the dust
blanketing their bookjackets
we put a brave face on things
you and I