I Can't Breathe

I CAN’T BREATHE   Inside the glass a young man says his last goodbye, a phone call to his mother, vigiling outside, a cough and a sneeze now a pandemic disease, soon he is whispering, I can’t breathe — isolated and trapped by a ventilator machine, a masked nurse holds his hand to ease his pain until he dies.   Outside the glass a mother says her last goodbye, a phone call to her ailing son inside, eyes burning and red, tears clogging her throat, grieving uncontrolably, I can’t breathe , no one consoling or hearing her cry masked ones walk by as she watches intently his final sigh.   Inside the glass a black man says his last goodbye, a video recording to witnesses outside arrest and handcuffing, then a racism disease, soon he is choking, I can’t breathe (12 times) face pinned to the street, neck kneed, lynched by white police while masked witnesses shout for relief until he dies.   Outside the glass Mothers ...