Tuesday, August 19, 2014

already a broken thing

what does evil know inside of a six year old boy
who wears glasses because he already can't see well
the small black animal limping on a broken wing 
trying to get away from the meaninglessness 
of a plastic bottle
crumbling 
over its round head.

i left her behind the bicycles for sale
in front of the supermarket
where she found refuge 
where no one even noticed
the death of their humanity 
shuffled away in shopping carts
except for the italian man who asked 
what is it that i am looking for.

another planet where black birds shed 
their worn out and grieving coats
unhindered by rocks, 
where the mix of fear and hope peak through
what remains of buildings that have seen war 
and cannot believe their eyes 
at how new structures rise 
like the erasure of memory 
staring back in victory 
every day.

i did not come here to save anything. 
i went back to the bicycle stack
and searched for the black bird 
in between motionless wheels.
i was too afraid to reach for her before, 
to break all her wings 
in my hands, to feel
her smallness, her softness, 
her desire to live.

i was looking for her to not find her.
i wouldn't have known what to do with her need
for food, how to undo her distrust 
of hands.
how would i have healed her wound, 
un-break her wing,
return her to the sky 
whole.

i did not come here 
to save anything, 
to be merciful,
to preach kindness against evil, 
to light the way.

i am human and cruel.

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