FIRST RESPONDERS

Man fallen.

Accident.

But it is no accident

that people know nothing

but to be calling

cell phones with fancy ring tones.

9-1-1, where are you?

Humble man fallen

in a pool of blood, unconscious.

Is he dead or alive?

Can anyone in this audience

tell me if this man will survive?

9-1-1, where’s the shiny fire truck?

Where’s the ambulance, where are the cops --

protecting civilians

giving vehicles tickets

for deadlines missed

by seconds on expired parking meters?

Is he dead or alive, dammit!

No one knows,

Nobody bothers to ask

this unknown man silently wailing.

Ten minutes of bloody life gone by

and the hysterical woman driver

is still praying to her god he didn’t die.

No, operator,

he’s not wearing a Rolex.

People stay away, don’t touch him,

stutters a callow student doctor.

He’s bleeding from a crack in the head,

can’t we at least

advise him not to touch it?

9-1-1, damn you!

Maybe we should have called

1-800-TERROR-2 instead

Tough guys and bullies

might have been instantly sent.

Can you hear me

Fallen man,

can you breathe for me?

No! Don’t touch your forehead!

Listen to me, please.

You’re alive,

but the woman who struck you

her future died today.

though I have a feeling

you-- are going to be okay.

And when tomorrow marks another day

it may not remember your name.

And as for me I might never erase

the helpless look on your face,

and together witnessing the vulgar numbness

of brothers among us in the human race.