By: Alex Wright
my mind spins like a record
on an old familiar track
makes its way through
circling grooves
without ever looking back
to a city made of salt
for lacking any taste
someday swallowed by the oceans
learning finally,
what’s in a name?
beyond consonants and vowels
chiseled in american steel
will they be stories of a broken land
or of a home that finally healed?
through dark years
when we spat on our brethren
through long nights
unsure of our faith
will they tell of how far we have traveled
or only our fear of change?
will nature talk kindly of our time here
will it be able to talk at all?
or will its voice be stumped
because no one stood up
when every one else chose to fall
may we speak now?
for times are not peaceful
and forever is a long time to waste
on a ship
that can’t stop its sinking
far too proud
to cry out
for grace
ALEX WRIGHT CONTAINS MULTITUDES 