The News

All I want is the front page:
condense those words,
your words,
for me, recycle those images.
Headline News it for me,
scan the headlines like poetry,
and then wash the news
from your fingers.
Scan the sink for those waterlogged words,
floating words that clog the drain,
circling, those words that circle the drain,
those words that float
in filthy water.
And yes,
I’ve seen the landfills,
I’ve seen them. I’ve worked
in the landfills,
I’ve shoveled your garbage into stinking pits,
I’ve walked from work immune
to the stench of your inevitable waste.
So I know what you mean
when you say global warming.
And yes,
I’ve seen those recycled images.
I’ve paid for education,
I’ve left behind friends and home and
garbage diggers to come
and be educated.
So how can I know what you mean
when you say ethnic cleansing,
when you say advancing into
(enemy) territory,
how on earth
can I know what you mean
when you say