Monday, February 20, 2017

Their Unfortunate Crime (Day 32)

Photo: Jacob Riis

Their Unfortunate Crime

Those people  there, 
not we   not us   not me     they 
are the problem   See them  
leaning on that wall 
Sitting cross-legged in the dirt 
that collects like unpanned gold 
beneath their nails
The rusted old cars in their 
sere yards choked with weeds
The flies   the mud   the guarded 
bloodshot eyes of their 
sweating bloated babies
Lord   We should adopt them all 
what kind of parents would
soldiers could   kids delirious 
in hooded jackets   pants down 
to there   Thank God   
they are not    here   we are not 
there    not them   they are 
not us   and that 
in our westernized opinion 
is their most unfortunate crime

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

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