For Trayvon, When Listening to My Facebook Friends
Is No Longer Enough
I teach a class an hour away, and late
at night, the only station I can hear
is Christian and conservative. A spate
of Bible verse for guide. The callers fear
for their immortal souls. They masturbate,
and then regret. A college boy in tears,
and I bewildered listening, the weight
of distance, each in our separate sphere —
and then I’m home again. Turn off the show;
it’s easier to bear this pain with those
who share my views. We are today deranged
with grief; I cannot bear to turn and go
to hear their fear that burns and outward flows.
Yet standing safe on shore will bring no change.