the I-10

packed like cattle on the I-10
screaming, clawing, fighting for survival
where's the grace? where's the help?
my home is gone;
lost under 20 feet of sewage and garbage and piss
where's my grace now?
last night, under the canopy of light cast by a half-full moon,
i looted the corner store
i took what i could; milk, bread
my kids have to eat
where's your grace now?
they say i'm a nigger
because i'm shooting a gun
what do they know?
have you ever been put against the wall like this? your home gone. your life devastated
the reek of your judgment stings my nostrils.
you live a thousand miles away
and i'm being treated like an alien
in my own country
they say that it's people like me who are sick and grotesque
but i'm just trying to survive
i'm trying to keep my family alive
what do you know about survival?
where is your grace?
we're suffocating and no one seems to care
i wonder, if it was boston that was lost in the sea,
wouldn't the help have already arrived?
where's my leader now? what country is his head stuck in?
all you care about is how much a gallon of gas is going to cost you tomorrow;
my rotted grandmother just floated down (what used to be) the street on a blow-up mattress
where's the love?
if hope floats tonight, it does so atop muddy, shit-filled water that's
sucking the very life out of my existence

where is the grace? who will save us?