Wednesday, November 8, 2023

burial




I get on a plane
To the other side of the world
And something touches me 
On the inside 
When the recording says—

“Be sure to adjust your own mask
Before helping others.”

That we humans saw fit
That we needed this reminder
In case of life or death 
Every time we get on a plane 

While in another plane
Bombs are being dropped on homes
And hospitals full of people 
Just trying to make it another day

Just trying to give their kids
A life in this impossible world
That keeps showing them
Despite their best efforts that
They don’t matter enough 

We watch quiet from our 
White washed coffins
While they dig unmarked graves
For unrecognizable human bodies 
For their friends and sisters and babies

We turn on our white noise fans
In our white walled apartments 
That we are not afraid of burying us alive 

We wash our kids white feet 
And don’t let them see the news

And who do we think we are
That we deserve any better
That we have anywhere to call home
That we have not been left alone 

And who the hell do we think we are
To say they don’t matter enough?

This too is an unmarked grave, 
A death, not worthy of burial

— olivia gwyn

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