Routine Crises Poem by Chen-ou Liu

A Tanka prose

I key in the headline 'Dozens dead after boat capsizes.' Phones ring, and laptops chatter with stories from around the world. Adrenaline pumps through my body like a tidal wave.

fading tracks
on an Aegean shore
at twilight
which of them belong to those
who drowned in cold water

I glance at the oversized clock on the rear wall of the newsroom. Its hands march closer and closer toward the deadline. And the refugee story waits to be replaced... with the latest news from the front lines of yet another war-torn country.