To Give Up and Fly
I wonder if the rich man suffers.
That Wall Street millionaire who just finished
Scamming the last old lady of the day.
I wonder if he stands on the roof
and wonders how it would feel to fly
like one of those birds he never noticed.
to let go and plummet through the toxic
fumes of the Manhattan skyline.
I wonder if he thinks that maybe,
just maybe, he will grow golden wings
and soar over all the helpless people below,
escaping this bleeding world that he stabbed
blindly, digging the knife of his presence
into its virgin land.
I wonder if his tie blows up into his eyes
and pulls on his neck as he falls.
like the noose he never noticed was there.
I wonder if he turns away from the street and
looks up at the starless sky
(For there are no stars in this land of smoky solitude)
and wonders if God is more
than the bearded white man that gets in the way
of Sunday morning conference calls.
Does he believe a heavenly hand will come and
Carry him to safety?
I wonder if he thinks about the kids
he was too busy to have,
or his Prozac wife who won't be wondering
about him and why he’s not home yet
to let in their Shih Tzu,
Its affection the only thing that
ever brought him back.
I wonder how he got this way,
how he became the monster I now know.
Maybe he dreamed as a child,
dreamed of helping our lost planet.
I wonder if he thought of riches first,
to give them out to the rest of us.
I wonder if he just got stuck or even forgot
and if he remembers as he falls.
I wonder if the wind forces him around
so he’s facing the street as
it tickles his nose,
and in that moment I wonder if
he sees forgiveness in the sidewalk,
speckled with the gum of his past and warmed
by the countless others to land on its cement.
I wonder if he sees redemption in its cracks,
cracks like the ones in that old lady’s heart
as she wonders how people can be so cruel.
