He didn’t think about the after
or the before for that matter,
the time it didn’t work,
the time all failed
the time we said, no, no, no,
never again.

No, he didn’t think about that.

He just meddled and muddled
believing it would work
without plan
without knowledge
without loss
of our sons, our daughters,
our husbands, our wives,
our fathers, our mothers
our friends and acquaintances
names in the newspapers
names on the newscasts,
all 4235 of them
with more to come,

believing it could be done
without caring about the nameless
other sons and daughters, wives and husbands,
fathers and mothers, friends and acquaintances
whose names will not appear

with all the other
names to be written
on the marble waves
crushing the shores
of our remembrance.

—Jean Toyama

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