11/22/13 Camden, NJ

Time slows

as I walk towards

the federal courthouse on Cooper Street.

Holding

a small, almost

withered apple up to a bleak sky.

I don’t think

about how it’s been

fifty years since the last assassination of a U.S. President.

I think

about this city,

and all its hungry children,

a concept

with no anniversary,

a concept which isn’t a concept but an avoidable reality.