The Brave

In the caverns of the billionaires, their space filled with money
not body with two arms two legs one face one nose two ears
with too little to hold in two hands for they are the absent ones

May there be always God on the side of the man with eloquence
the woman with gusto and pride and the so-called Other, whose
fate is decided by another in a way the atmosphere is body’s soul

The man or woman with creases in their palms, the lines of dirt
come from toil and sweat crusting the flesh as far as its flow,
their children given what they did not have the chance to have

The streets and doorways, those everywhere the poor have slept
and sleep as the heart carries its charge of blood through and out
where one breath comes before and follows another and flows on

May there be food, clothing, and shelter for those, the homeless
they are called when the tongue shrivels in the stomach’d mouths
outside looking in and seeing nothing they want, all we desire,

they say, is a floor and ceiling and window and roof like the sky
is nothing more than the body needs to grow old and die happily
for here is to be found the threads that form the American fabric

and here is the man who died before the other man and his brother
and the man who was a slave’s progeny with his memory alive
today is King’s day, this is Obama’s day, all for different reasons.

(21 January 2013)

copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander