I hear babies crying

June 2004 - August 2007

I hear babies crying, untouched and sirens wailing
calling street-walkers home.
Dirty laundry, missing limbs and homeless murders while
i suck sweet candy after work, like a lullaby.

I hear women wailing, torn asunder by the threat,
oh but there’s passion in the suburbs,,
like I get what’s happening to the poor
when I meet you for coffee at Starbucks at three.

I hear guns blazing, bands marching, trumpets blaring,
bacon cooking, trying to draw good men home.
I hear the women cry and moan, blaze and march,
I know they’re partially the reason why I’ll be next to follow you.

I hear every breath she takes in a minute
And I measure relief by seconds and nano-seconds
And eat plain at lunch as if to say
I’m doing my part for the babies today.