34 (a poem)

Thirty-four years to the day (also a Saturday) since Live Aid, and I can’t help wondering…

When I came of age
we had satellites of love and global guitars
we had statements of conscience
we had the biggest and brightest coming together to take a stand
          to fight poverty and famine
          to protest against war
          to demand equality
          to insist upon our shared humanity

Elvis Costello sang an “old northern English folk song”

Thirty-four years have passed since that day—
where are
          the songs
          the concerts
          the videos
          the telethons
          the anthems
          the appeals
          the full-page ads in the New York Times
          the satellite broadcasts
          the focused effort
          the global village

Where is our Band Aid?
Where is our “We Are the World”?
Where is our Live Aid?
Where is our “Sun City”?
Where is our Amnesty International Concert?
Where is our Concert for New York City?
Where is our Not in Our Name?
Where is our Live 8?

It’s 2019—what the fuck is going on?

(13 July 2019)

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