Lands Under Siege

Once again that scourge of mankind, drought, stalks the horn of Africa, covering vast areas beneath its haunting shadow, and leaving death and desolation in its wake. Eleven-million people, men, women, and worst of all children are threatened with dehydration and starvation. They call to the world, call to us for help.
 
It is our duty to answer. We must do everything in our power, no matter how little it is to come to their aid, and come now before it is too late. The logistics of supplying so many people with the basic needs of life, food, water, shelter, medicine, are daunting to say the least, but if we can send men to the moon, and plan a voyage to mars, spend billions on wars; then with a united effort we can do this. If we don’t, the greatest tragedy in human history will take place.

I for one don’t want the blood of eleven-million on my hands, and I doubt if you do either. Pick up the torch, put your shoulder to the wheel and let us see if we can’t prevent this catastrophe from happening.

Little Black Bellies
Little black bellies,
distended by starvation,
limbs, pipe stem thin,
bones so brittle,
a gentle wind,
could break them.

Mothers weep,
tears of dust,
at least the ones,
the few, who still have,
the strength to cry.

Flies nest,
lay eggs
in oozing wounds.

I change channels
before taking another bite
of my burger,
another sip,
of cold foamy beer.

For me it is
far too cruel
a thing to watch,
to listen too.

If I hurry
I can make the happy hour.

Do your homework kids,
before I return.
There’s ice cream,
and chocolate cake
for desert.

Little black bellies,
distended by starvation,
limbs, pipe stem thin,
bones so brittle,
a gentle wind,
could break them.