Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Day 621: burn

when they fell
i found my father shaving away yesterday at the bathroom sink
my mother
as usual
it was all usual

i remembered new yorj beaing worlds away
further than te middle east
and words like world trade were as foreign as bin laden
we took anything that could fit on our tongues and spit them out like sour milk
regegitated information we werent old enough to digest
at anyone who would listen
we heard the names on CNN, ABC
we knew nothing of the swollen bodies
the fire that consumed
the hungry lain across the streets
that there were missiles to be found
in the coach pocket of a man who looked like he prayed to the wrong god
from our side of the bible
our belts buckled in the thought of him

when the towers fell
i had forgotten about the bodies
of americans
never knew they would burn the same as Afghanis
how prayer would not save anyone caught in the shadow
cross fire
how nothing good would come from this fire and fleet

when thw towels fell
we pretended to love america
we hung our flags
forgot that blood is the same crison in every language under every god
in the light of any sun
that fire does not discriminate on how it burns
the grafts
we would have taken lifetimes to heal
have spit themselves back up
screaming to be acknowledged

when the towers fell
i found myself grateful for the ocean
knowing she'd protect me
from the fire

No comments:

Post a Comment