She walks the parched desert floor,
searching, gathering kindling
for cooking to feed her last living child.
Save the Whales!
Her village plundered and burned,
tribal elders slaughtered,
husbands butchered, sons abducted,
mothers, sisters, daughters, molested.
People for Ethical Treatment of Animals!
She walks barefoot on burning sand,
arms laden, sticks piled high.
Jan-ja-weed gallop full speed.
She runs on calloused feet.
No place to hide.
Save the Rain Forests!
Too far—refugee camp—for ears to hear her cry.
As Jan-ja-weed gang rape,
leave her near dead,
Ban Torture!
machete hacks her legs,
slashing marks her forever, “whore”,
no further use to decent man,
a slut to Fuck, and Fuck, and
Fucking ignore.
Ban Pornography!
Stop Iran! Stop Korea!
Stop Nuclear Proliferation!
Stop!
May I have a water cured, fair trade, decaf mocha latte, with soy,
and Splenda, no sugar, hold the whipped cream, extra hot, to go
with a NY Times —that one with the headline:
Massacre in Darfur: UN help near?
How much longer do we bear
leaders and people who declare
more time is needed to debate and decide,
if Dafur meets the description
of genocide.
Meanwhile . . .
Save the Tree Octopus!
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