How Soon...? Poem by Daniel Brick

(The first stanza is unreadable.)

Scraps of bread are ripped
from their mouths.
They are too weak to resist
the theft. They bow their heads,
their eyes already closed.
They sink to the floor, and
curl together for warmth.

They are just children
who have stopped smiling, and
no person or thing provokes
their laughter. How soon will
death claim them, out of pity
for their plight? I lean forward,
and change the channel...

Because I've seen enough of this suffering.
I close my eyes and bow my head.
There is nothing I can do but pretend:
Is this a rescue? a closure? a withdrawal
into Self? This life I call my life is
a long asphalt road. My car is going fast again.
Is it completely out of control?

I did not sleep last night. I will not
sleep tonight. I will stare into a vast sky,
wishing the stars delivered knowledge
as well as light. I will park my car
in some garishly lit space, then walk
slowly, deliberately into the deepest
night space. Blind and helpless,

I will be one with the victims. I choose this fate.


(This poem was inspired by the Cable TV series,
TRUE DETECTIVES, Season Three,2019.)