Somewhere in America Tonight (for Sekou Sundiata)

by Diane M. Laboda

There’s a homeless man starving,

there’s a dumpster full of mad tenderloin,

there’s corn stacked up in Omaha

that will never see Mozambique.

There’s a mother grieving,

there’s a leg being blown to bits abroad,

there’s a pristine droplet gleaming in the sun

that will never meet the sea.

There’s a tiny baby crying,

there’s a Chevy wrapped around a tree,

there’s a thousand acorns falling

that will never become an oak.

There’s an embryo exploding,

there’s a trash can full of wombs,

there’s a wheat field whispering nonsense

that will never be heard.

There’s a light particle in the cosmos spinning,

there’s a planet reaching critical mass,

there’s another species dying

to be free of insanity.