In Half-A-Minute in Haiti

over the course of a year
a city counts, numbers
its traffic accidents
its traffic fatalities

as if the entire city
were a vehicle, traveling swiftly
with its millions on board
crashed into a wall

the living with the dead, buried
screaming, crying
until they are rescued
or could cry out no longer

stones moved in seconds
to trap, to bury, to pin down

what strength and what time required
to move them, these tomb stones

who on earth with hands,
with heavy equipment
able to move, to undo
what was done in half-a-minute

Haiti like a car crashed
bodies everywhere

everybody left alive,
grieving or groaning
others moaning

eyes of the world
wide in disbelief
agape, aghast
face of horror, horror to face


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
1:55 a.m. 19.01.10