Newspaper heart

I'd like to tell you 2.000 people died in Nigeria last thursday:
yes, human beings make me afraid with their toys
and brainless days. i've already seen what they can do
as we hid from the books, from the burden of being ourselves.

i also would like to inform you we are facing the worst environmental accident here:
there is no water after the dam burst,
there is no hope too.
rivers die in mud.
we die in shame.
who will pay for that?

and as i close my eyes, the psychiatrist prescribes
another medicine.
she's another victim of this:
i am angry because i wanted her to be strong.
(but she was. she preserved her individuality,
her beliefs, her integrity; she is the proof of my weakness
and grandeur.)
she - the weird, the leper, the thing.

somebody said Paris is here and there.
Sartre condemned us to be free.
(are we? are we?)

but
i pray(ed) for us, crying,
with my fists clenched
and nothing can't disarm me,
even poetry.

karla bardanza