MONDAY, MAY 10, 2010
Amman, Jordan
© Laura Merzig Fabrycky
Failing in Wartime

It has never not been wartime.
They have always been dying and
grieving—deep,
rib-cage-gasps of lament.
And I have been idle at my computer,
checking my Facebook account for
the latest distraction from the terror,
disease,
death,
orphans,
women and children trafficked,
the cruel and nearly pitied lives.
Hands outstretched to my closed
driver’s side window.
The locked door.
I cannot breathe this kind of air for long.
What is required?
What can one do in
wartime when it is all wartime?
I hold them responsible. All thems.
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