Caracas, January 3rd

There is something simple
which power forgets
and clouds of smoke
and the roar of rotor blades
cannot conceal.

There are people there.
Wherever “there” is
on the frontlines
of every empire’s effort
to manifest dominion.

Just. People.
Running on the sidewalk,
panicked at the borders.
cans of food and children’s toys
rattling even now in the trunk of a car that,
for today (meu deus), still starts.

People. There.
In doorways and on freeways.
Praying for a place beyond the bombs,
without ever knowing the plans of men
with pens
that write orders
and suits
worth more than this month’s rent
and declarations
that burst forth in fire -
when the children should be sleeping.

Just. People. There.
On this day we pray strength unto them all
upon us all -
to meet this time
with courage,
and grief,
and remembering,
and reminding -

that in that place, where they are, among them,
there is only all of us.