Jeff McCallum

My partner was accosted as she left the Lake Street Bridge, another bridge that joins Minneapolis and St. Paul.; accosted by a woman who was angry that she was continuing the ten year tradition of exercising her right to protest the actions of our government even during a time of deeply felt local and national sorrow.

“Now is not the time!” she said, fists clenched and trembling.

We say now and every day is the time. The time to awaken. The time to change our national course and priorities. What better way to eulogize our fallen friends and neighbors then to stand together, and say we’ve had enough.

           Bridge of Silence

There is a sound of silence

that comes with and from the rending of the metal

weight beyond comprehension meeting the water

dust and smoke

wave and fire lapping at sky

the death cries

the prayers

the horrific tearing of the fabric

that is our illusion of as it is

as it should be

when any bridge collapses

and when it’s a real bridge

in a real town in real time

despite the search for blame

the claims and counter claims of people press and politicians

that moment

that sound of silence

to absorb the shock

to honor the dead

who did not understand the crisis of infrastructure

the significance of taxes

the price of war on the bridges we call education

and health care and welfare

and surface transportation

on real lives

in real time

for they fatigue in silence

as real bridges do

stress cracks documented in the census of the homeless

the death counts in hospital waiting rooms

crime on the streets

people dying

just as inspectors document the age and condition

of real bridges with hard facts

document

while we remain silent

that moment of silence

is our window of opportunity to change

And there will be a great cry of silence

shifting the wind of possibility

to external terror

to engineers and agencies

away from our decisions to be complacent

to be silent

about the war

the torture

the uninsured

the homeless veterans

surface transportation

the endless list of fatigued structures

we used to call social fabric

before we began every sentence

with I

What cotton candy will we place in our ears

what fluff will they

place in our ears

that not hearing

we will be guiltless

and silent

Will the silence work as it does

for Katrina

for Halliburton

for Black Water

for the loss of habeas corpus

for children dying of malnutrition

a bridge collapsing

in a neighbourhood

a block

a mile

a galaxy removed from our hearing