It is difficult/to get the news from poems/yet men die miserably every day/for lack/of what is found there./Hear me out/for I too am concerned/and every man/who wants to die at peace in his bed/besides.
William Carlos Williams, "Asphodel, that Greeny Flower"
Move along, you don't belong here.
from The Root: 'Trayvon, Redux,' by Rita Dove
then RYOT: Trayvon Martin: Another dead kid
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