in-humanity
things that can be taken away:
your family
your clothing
your bed
your blankets
your food
your books
your name
your dignity
what then remains?
sometimes
your will to resist
your sense of self
your purpose
your words
your unspoken name
your hunger for justice
your resolve to forgive
who owns the rain?
in a thousand villages
in a hundred towns
in a dozen cities
people argue right now:
who owns the rain?
in a western water court
old men hear cases
weigh the rights of farmers and fish
consider the adage
first in time first in line
gauge what use is beneficial
collect money to buy life
decide with finality
who owns the rain?
in Botswana
money = pula
and pula = rain
the earth’s heart is carved
into mountains of tailings
to exhume sparkling rocks
while some drink salt
hoping for a new borehole
weathering drought wondering
who exactly owns the pula?
in Colorado
you had to be a renegade
to steal the water off your roof
every ounce of the rivers
already over-allocated
bought and paid for
by who knows who
you had to be brave to rebel
to catch that daily liquid thunder
and defiantly say
I claim this rain
