Shadows of wings
of missile-clad, military aircraft
fly across the wet reflections
of my human
on the shower floor.
I sigh at what they’re there for.
Black box static
in rich american technicolor:
“deTHpiKable acts, no mercy”
segregates me
from my planet, Earth.
I mourn for Sylvester’s bird.
Shower drops fall
with tears of empathy for my brothers:
friend, partner, kinfolk, lover who
jumped like lab rats
from the guillotine.
I repent my brother’s sin.
My Soul cries out
in pain for humanity, the end near.
My terrified child, bound and gagged,
wriggles escape.
He stands and preaches.
I listen to his teachings:
“Break from shower
shadows! Flush the black box and dry away
your woes! Take from me your wings. To
them give new life.
Set our angel free;
Be strong, feel love, show mercy!”
October 14, 2001, NYC