Friday, September 20, 2013

An Economy of Souls

Setting aside what you may think,
this water evaporating from their west
to precipitate over your east coast, you drink,
and bathe in what rises from their south sea
to course through your north mountain feeders.
Just so, as they there hunger, we grow weak;
when you have no home, he feels such cold;
she sleeps in fever, and you dream our demons.
Each wears the other's surplus clothes.
The shot and unburied bodies blot against our skin.
Understand: we breathe the same,
the same particles of air, as each breathes.
No distance stands between us, no difference. 
I plead for passage, you are my path past death,
to heaven, as I am yours.

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