Even as Babel crumbles, to endure,
        You're willing to endure,
        You care. As you see the figures soar
        (Others recalling caves
        Safer than rooftop flats flee,
        Their lots shaken, hoarse litter of
        Hands let go & wounded
        Mouths agog) of ones pinned by rods,
        Powerless, rooted to piles in haste,
        So you, of iron lungs say: "Had I
        A hundred tongues, a thousand mouths..."

Copyright © Mac Oliver, 2001.  All Rights Reserved.