I teach class an hour away


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.