baby boy born at dawn

the three of us traveling made a deal to come up with a poem by the end of the World Social Forum in Nairobi. still working on one inspired by the WSF but here is one from working in a rural clinic in tanzania. The mother died of AIDS and even though we got together money for formula for her five month old son, he died right before we left. Me and Monica saw the grandmother and grandson in clinic and payed the 7 dollars a week to get him along for a bit. he is pictured above. he was swimming in those shorts. We didn't even find out his name. A poem seems so useless but it was a long plane ride after finding out the son had died too.


On AIDS in Tanzania
(Loose emulation of JJ's "Focus in Real Time")


Something as simple as a pill in the palm of her hand

This Tanzanian woman
Sings as she breast feeds

They say it was the rain
But it was always my tears and sweat
Which brought up the maize

They said the railroads
Will bring a new day
But it was always diamonds going
with the sunset
The other way

And now she dies and is dying

Something as simple as a pill in the palm of her hand
This Tanzanian woman
Brilliant orange head wrap
Red African mud between her toes
Any pill
Anything close to healing
She does not hold in the palm of her hand.
her left breast sags in
the sun.
ribs exposed
continuum with the spine of her too large wooden chair
she resembles the chair
both of them frail
twigs
ready to snap

a pill
something as simple as a pill in the palm of her hand

her hands scathed
rough as maize husk

she dies and is dying
her 5 month old
baby boy born at dawn
suckles at her dry left breast

he suckles ashes from her left breast

something as simple as a pill in the palm of her hand

Who owns this pill?
What plant or human genome extract gave birth to it?
Who cut the compound, packaged
into compact cure?
In which boardroom, what lawyers patented it?
Blue suits and leather suitcases
tucking death into the space between fine print

Who keeps the cash?
Which markets rose while she fell?
Which corporate graph will track her demise?
Who will clench their fists one over the other as she opens her hand?

This Tanzanian woman
Her baby boy born at dawn

Who will began to ask for a moratorium on their death penalty?

Something as simple
as a pill in the palm of her hand

Who will join this standing up?
A reach to claim the pill
demand the pill
And place it in her hand
Something as simple
And good
As healing
A pill in the palm of her hand

Sri
2/10/07