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What I Weep For
What I weep for is you
 
 and me, myself.
 When anguish can’t be expressed
 in human words any longer
 we weep
 
 clawing at the warm
 moist guts of the earth
 with sharpened fingernails
 we scream
 
 line up with tear-tracks
 down our cheeks
 as they call out numbers,
 a blue tattoo.
 
 Soup and sandals and cuts
 like spidery tracing
 on the backs of our backs
 our fronts
 
 concrete beneath me
 and I weep for bloody
 feet
 
 I weep for you
 for me
 for faith
 I weep for freedom
 
 I weep for hate

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