IN POETRY
Brother
by H.J. Recinos
Brother
by H.J. Recinos
why bother with god talk
that says nothing about kids
gone missing, the brutality
of their streets and the rivers,
deserts and jails telling their
stories in Spanish for anyone
awake enough to hear. why
bother to attend yet another
Sunday service in castaway
churches full of excuses and
practiced in looking the other
way. when will the rich houses
of worship start singing the grieving
hymns written by mothers who beg
the infinite to make American hands
return Ana, Rosa, Olga, Juan, Miguel,
and Joel. when will the lettered
theologians ask the young girls
who walked across three borders
what they felt seeing their mother
raped and America spitting out
everything for which their beaten
families prayed. how many empty
nights for the people with hearts
full of dreams will go unnoticed
by those paid for doing sacraments
and sharing godly thoughts twitched
up like indigestion. when will the
church bells ring good news for the
forsaken longing for a sweet taste
of paradise and days on English
named streets without cursing
a God who in America appears
too wealthy and most high.