you melting glaciers,
the last turtle in
the bay,
puppies
with big eyes, their ribs
showing
as they shiver
in a cage in new jersey.
they like to play
violin music,
soft and melancholy
as they show
you refugees,
a soft voice narrating
the tragedy
per day.
people wading in flood
water,
the lines of homeless
and hungry,
wanting relief.
the scabbed,
the sick,
the dying,
the lost and impoverished.
how many times a day
can your heart break,
your stomach
take, a world gone
brown and soft
like a rotten
apple.
No comments:
Post a Comment