Mogadishu in Toronto

(December, 1992)

Eyes wildhe rushes mehis arms threshingabove his head.No roomno timefor all the niceproprieties.Suddenly I kneelin his path—he comesto his own kneesreaching outdesperatelyfor the simple food in my hands.I give. I stare.

Ravenous hestuffs his gapingmouth and gulpsnoisilyfrom the cup I offer him.And who am Ito feed my starvingbrother in this tortured time?Mogadishuis in Toronto—hearts are hungering, hopesdareeverywhere. ...Compassion calms.Here I hold my brother nowtrembling, stark, and stinkingin my arms.

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