TODAY — There was a pig that flew
Through a department store window
Shattering into a hundred porcelain pieces
Scattering change across the floor and
Broken glass. The video has been seen
A thousand times or more and a black-and-white
Picture of the suspect has been circulating
Around — it’s a little boy, the son of some
Dead carpenter, who had been saving up for
A new handsaw. He got mad at a news report
And now police say he is out there, on the run
And dangerous. The boy can be identified
By a distinctive birthmark on his left cheek
In the shape of a faded heart.
YESTERDAY — “There are fires everywhere,” reported
The infinite bystander. “When will they all just cool down?”
Meanwhile, there are tiny neighbourhoods that shiver
In a frigid air dense with lonesome ghosts —
Their sky is thick with the smoke of burnt out cigarettes
And snuffed birthday candles lying on day-old
Carrot cake, and the scene smells of those last bits
Of leftover bacon in the pan that sizzled away like
The sunny Sunday morning. And in the pews was
A melancholy newcomer with a fistful of cents
Who volunteered with troubled young men in the church
And tried to build a life out of the pieces in the street
And died. The police involved in the case cannot find
The weapon, the motive, the suspect — but we are an endless witness.
TOMORROW — There are thunderstorms ahead.
Strikes of great blue lightning will try to split apart
The seven-hundredth scheduled protest of the streets.
And when the sweat meets the coming storm
This will become a city of syrup and spiky
Silver shards — an impossible scene to pass by.
But sometimes God speaks in the rain, as quietly
As a drop in the ocean, as a match in the inferno,
As a baby’s first step. What else can we do but listen
And look upon our daily flying swine? They remind us that pigs
And rain and died are four-letter words too. They remind us that
There is possibility and prospect in the broken pane. They remind us
That the painful glassy glare will never stop a walk across an overflowing square.
And will you meet us there?
Jared Cubilla is in his 2A term of English Rhetoric, Media, and Professional Communication.