foreword

it's a lie
to say it's a shame when
one of the herd
falls down;
sickened,
crippled,
dying and/ or lame

a fool's shame to say
that we don't have the
time
to notice the fallen
or
the falling.

we are convinced,
scared into the feeling that
we can't afford the
time
it takes
to look up from the stampede-
wipe the dust from our eyes
created by this futile race
against death;
against looking back.

we tell ourselves
that we can't manage to
track
the sick and the dying,
while the sickness
and the" means to an end"
track us relentlessly
day and night.