The Old Man and the Remote

Violence walks hand in hand
on the slums of Dharavi, in Mumbai,
on the Oxford Street, in London.

Corruption talks in the renamed
places around the world.
War rages in every corner of the
enduring planet, there's none
to give a hand.

He takes a virtual tour with
a remote in his hackneyed hand.

He sits — a soft ruin in a
creaking chair,
tea gone cold beside him,
remote clenched like a rosary
in brittle hands.
Click —
the face of a child bloodied
in Gaza.
Click —
a child gunning down another child
in New York,
a woman wailing in Delhi’s
smoke-stained streets.
Click —
a river, once holy, now swallowing
corpses.
Click —
another flag, another gun, another
demon, another god.

How many channels must
a man watch before
silence speaks?
How many tongues
must scream
before the world learns
to hush?

The anchors all wear suits,
like mourners at a wedding
like business deals negotiated
during a funeral.
They smile through the slaughter,
sell grief in high-definition.
"Breaking News," they say,
but nothing breaks—
except the earth,
nothing collapses, except the bodies.

It’s a child’s play to find
out what is in tandem in
all the countries of the world; in Russia,
Ukraine, Pakistan, India, Iran, Israel,
California, and such
an ordeal to find the odd one out
because there is none, none at all.

no action to put a full stop

The soul of an old man
too drained to remember
if hope was ever more than
a rumor, if shadows ever reflected
in a mirror.

He stares
as cities fall like dominoes
across the curve of the globe,
and wonders if the world is round
so sorrow can come full circle.
Stalwarts collectively destroying
the world with cerebral finesse.
Click —
a mother digging with her hands.
Click —
a temple burning.
Click —
a boy with no legs
and a soccer dream.
Click —
advertisements.

He laughs —
a sound like paper tearing —
and switches off.

He sits in silence,
where birds still
remember songs
the news forgot. 

A voice,
more than a thousand years
old, his remote song
becomes the dawn,
carried by wings
that will not rest
until peace is home again.