Pakistan Starving


In a short time,

many people will die,

will just die,

of exposure, and

of hunger.

Entire families, entire villages,

will lie down on the barren soil

and depart from this life.


just months after wings of

families and their homes were

washed away…

Meanwhile, I sit here, worrying about getting a job,

which I am worried about,

but still living in such comfort that I can barely realize

how worried I should be,

how concerned, made active…

I have my laptop, plugged in,

playing some music from India, my lamp is on,

my little candle is burning away…

I’m in my single bed, tucked in under my warm

soft blankets, surrounded by

more books than some towns have had,

with more snacks stashed away than

whole families/villages/camps have eaten today,

pouring myself some tea…

And what can I do for Pakistan?  Report on it?  Go there?

They need clothes…if only I could send all my clothes –

though it’d be sad to see all those

Pakistanis wearing western garb

from now on

because of this…

And meanwhile,

what is the taliban doing?

What are the bad guys doing?

Planning to bomb some more Sufi shrines?

That’ll really help.

Taking some more jet liner trips

around the world?

Eating on gold plated dishes?

Redistribution of wealth:

How can one person have

mansions when

so many die of hunger?

Well, I know how, but…

Where’s the heart?

Can you imagine, sitting there

in the hot, quiet sun,

hungry, weak, afraid –

in despair.


What do you do when you know

there is no food,

no food anywhere –

no stores,

no houses,

no tents,

no food:

You stare out across a horizon that

stretches out into time, and you know

your candle is burning out,

that horizon being all that is left between you

and your end;


as if time is creeping you up to that wall,


you are there,

and your crying is


you are done.


how people can call on god…?

but who else are you gonna call on?


everyone knows that

soon, those people will be


they will stop troubling


By Christmas.

By New Year’s.

Soon their stories will be gone,

even to each other,

and we can go on in peace.

We need to change our priorities.

Or be heartless.

We gave ourselves over

to the idol of money.

We’ve coined our own hearts.

But, we are made of flesh

and blood,

of stomachs,

of nerves,

of limbs, and eyes,

and nipples, and of

our minds.

We think thoughts,

and we have feelings.

Everyone has feelings.

Whether they want to or not.

I suppose it can be easier

not to have feelings.

Whose voice can trouble you then?

those bastards:

when it all went down, I wanted to put a boom box in a little red wagon, and play Gnarls Barkley’s Crazy

keep it on repeat, drag it behind me all around town, while carrying a sign that said:


I guess I shoulda done it.  it’s funny how we sit there thinking: isn’t anybody gonna do something? isn’t anybody gonna say something? isn’t anybody else as pissed as I AM??? but we just don’t take it on ourselves…a missed opportunity I say…

meanwhile, someone seems to have made a good doc about it all:

so go see it and get MAD AS HELL, AND LET’S NOT TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!

(who the fuck IS Henry Paulson?)


those bastards

What, me worry?