NEW ORLEANS SEPTEMBER 2005
Sep 05 '05
The Bottom Line A poem to read and think about.
NEW ORLEANS SEPTEMBER 2005
By
Christopher J. Jarmick
I think for a moment it will be okay again.
What I long for
will begin to happen,
what I fear
will fade away.
Things will change.
I will worry of course,
but hugs will arrive,
dressed up in various assurances;
like an insurance policy for orgasms.
If they aren’t always good --
you’ll be richer than you ever imagined.
Water moccasins in flood waters.
Bodies float by.
Roads leading nowhere.
Music silenced.
Stench of garbage, feces, death.
Desperation.
Starvation.
Fear settles into the skins of the living.
Madness descends with setting sun.
Tomorrow we will want names
someone to blame.
It reeks of racism and class war
Hate has re-awakened.
WE ARE VICTIMS
NOT REFUGEES
WE ARE YOUR NEIGHBORS,
NOT EVACUEES
WE ARE STARVING.
Dying.
Not behind closed doors
Or in places you pretend never to see
or refuse to acknowledge,
But on television,
in prime-time.
Yes, a lot of our faces are dark.
Ain’t that a shame?
A shame to keep you up at night.
- Copyright© C. Jarmick 2005. All rights Reserved
Started August 31 3:15 a.m. Finished September 2, 2005
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