2003-02-07 - 4:48 p.m.
The day of 9/11 I wrote this poem..and haven't let it come out of hiding since. I'm kind of nervous to share with you all, b/c well, we're always our own worst critics, right? anyway..feel free to rip it to shreds.
9.11.2001
The phone rang at 10 till 7 that morning. Heart rate beating; faster, faster, racing, matching Mom's hysteria; screaming wake up wake up. LISTEN TO ME LL, IT IS URGENT.
Wake up Ed, Laura and Geoff frantically fumbling fumbling for the remote access to the media window portraying the photographs of horror wallpapered in the cerulean sky.
Staring, frozen, shocked, angry, sad, heart slowing, lump forming, stomach turning b/c of the planes colliding, buildings collapsing, people running, clouds of dust forming, fireman rescuing and dying, people jumping, bodies melting, people losing, heroes rising, as I sit in my PJ's in my den crying barely thinking in ironically calm chaos but then I tune in.
Fits of rage, kill the bastards, they deserve to die, he deserves to die, blame them are the comments flying all around me stinging my ears b/c my morality and humanity and patriotism are conflicting and I can't feel anything but helpless in my den. I can't do anything but watch and selfishly hope I didn't know anyone, while our country is in agony.
My daily credit card bills piling, my Starbucks in the morning, my monotonous whining of my daily paper pushing routine is disrupted and insignificant in our grand taken for granted lives on this morning that were reminded that this land is not really made for you and me.
