From America I watched
The baby was caked in soot
People in a panic hopped over it without a second look
A new born fallen fresh from its mother’s core
The mother crushed beside it half in, half out the door
For three days the baby pitifully cried
For three days folks ignored and stepped aside
It took three full days- then the baby died.
Somebody wipe the baby off! Please…just wipe the baby’s
eyes. Use a little spit and your thumb, or the corner
of your apron like grandmother did. Get something…a
rag…use your shirt tail. Doesn’t anyone carry a handkerchief
Stop talking about them like that. Stop showing them as if they
are aliens, sub humans…less than us. There’s a mother running with her child.
“Run mother run! Run child run!”
Turn off the camera, that’s not supposed to be shown. Is that a
leg? Just a leg?
I rushed into my busy, busy office. Not again Jesus, no, not
again. Wasn’t September 11th bad enough? Wasn’t Hurricane Katrina enough?
I chomped my spreading behind down. I was too far angry to
acknowledge the groan of my wicker vanity chair. I wrapped my
flabby arms tightly around my chest and rocked and rocked and
rocked like an insane person.