by Essence Bryant, literary editor
constantly surrounded by thousands of people
thousands of tongues
but still be oblivious to the one thing that connects us all
living
human beings
being less than human
more than bruising
still find a way to degrade
those who are bleeding and
those who are needing
worry not about the tv screen,
but the bloodied screams
from overseas
and
no one worried about malaria, ebola, influenza,
no one cared until disease hit the States
but what of all those who died before?
in Africa and Singapore?
pieces of glass in the sand
rocks in the trough of
the triumph of the human race
civil wars, unfed poor
but sleep at night not with the glow of a night light
but from that of the same wishing moon a thousand tongues wished upon