Was it this man or his parents, Katrina?

Stephen M. James — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

digging for answers in the murky
two channels down on Court TV, I flip
beady eyes to flashes to bodies floating in filthy, frothy sewage,
the drunk tourists say there’s no limits before Lent within the
Big Easy limits the thoughts
the night before
this day,
night,
it’s not quite fol–low
the separation of jurisdiction not present: Nikes racing to
convene at Conventions unknown
numbers and time
escape inside the dark dome
to Jefferson’s [they] Parish– to declare
to stay put the marshes guard
the coast Guards the living
ocean from the people flood
spilling over it’s banks
lifted safely to CNN to see
politics play cards: a race
against Times Picayune said a cat. [five] could levy heavy taxes on its people
to survive do what’s
appropriate a Bill
and a Bush, to show we care
fill her up– tomorrow will cost
2 cents more:
the journalist actually screams “These people need
refuge–gee, we made a mistake” To err is natural
selection and disaster–here? [US?] No,
see no, say no
“looters” or AP-the
tower falls
in Siloam, we say
“Salam”

the poetry knook :: the poetry of stephen m. james :: indianapolis, indiana » play_cards

Was it this man or his parents, Katrina?