The Scream
(“The mass of (people) lead lives of quiet desperation”)
Henry David Thoreau
the bump that blue purpes the skin after a fall when a mosquito bite is scratched yelling red
or death lurks its tumor head up to full zero color
is the scream I could feel all month
snake like shedding its colors behind
sorry
it’s all right
doesn’t matter
shit happens
and like the 20 inch steam pipe
which burst in Manhattan spewing forth
decades of rock metal asbestos debris
imagine one day I’ll be walking down the street
alone or with a friend
an ordinary day like any other
and suddently gripped with fear
feel that scream rush thru the city
I’ll race after it but will never find
what I’ve stopped feeling to reclaim
a day just like that one
an ordinary day....
Linda Lerner
Brooklyn, N.Y.
American Red Cross