14.Echo

I say to you

“Kapo”

under my breath

as I pass you in the street.

When I see you, behind the window,

as I pass my life - reduced to paper -

under the glass.

I say to you

“Kapo”

screaming it loud

as my tears fall at the news,

when I see you, in the corner,

my rights diminished - traduced by soundbites -

into the mike.

I say to you

“Kapo”,

into my teacup

as you shun a beggar’s plea

when I hear you, cursing at her.

The same excuses – produced by echoes -

out of the past.