there is a knife
sticking out
of

the wound
in her belly
still adorned by
bloody fingerprints

perhaps an act of God
or more probably
a simple
mistake

mistaken
by passerby as
trash, unimportant
disposable

she lies
on the
bakes
on the
swelters
on the
sidewalk

that'll burn the soles
of your feet if you
walk without shoes

the blood dribbles
from the side
of her mouth

while businessmen in
expensive perfectly pressed
linen suits

avert gazes trained not
to see while still
appearing
to pay perfect
attention

the knife
the knife
the blood bubbles and
gurgles around
the knife

the pathogen
spills out from her
airborne it
slides into the innards
of rich and poor
everyone within reach
everyone within sight
everyone within
ear
of the inaudible shriek
that shrills from
a throat long
silenced

infected, but they don't know
they go on
they come back
they rebuild
they mourn
they step

around
the bloody knife
protruding grotesquely
from the beautiful body
of the woman that was

08/16/2009

Author's Note: All rights reserved.

Posted on 08/17/2009
Copyright © 2025 Gira Bryant