From Generation to Generation

Who will speak for the man
who
though old and resourceful cannot utter a word
who
though patient and kind in hours of need
cannot calm the storms in his own chest cavity where
years and years of miss-steps and acerbic, tawdry ties
linger out loud?
Who?

Who will speak for the man
who
though lost and afraid cannot put down his false aegis
who
though strong and myopic in a multitude of ways
cannot extend an opening, even for a second, for fear
of seismic (and somehow familiar) betrayals?
Who?

Who will speak for their women
who
though compassionate to the end cannot keep the fridge door closed
who
though competent and care-full in salvific proportion
cannot save themselves from diseases of self-destruction and
the never-ending satisfactions of stress?
Who?

And who, oh who
will speak for their children
who
though they swallow whole and see transparently
cannot undo the ancestral ties that bind
who
though they weep behind closed doors and resolve to place the patterns down
cannot help following the primordial map "home"?