STC Inhumanity

STC Inhumanity
~~
Catherine Genovese

"Kitty," they called
when you came home,
"How 'us yer day,
toots?"
"Didja work very hard?"
"Kitty, honey, be
a dear and get the
door."

They knew you,
knew your apartment
number, knew what window
you looked out of,
leaning on the sill
with your arms folded
together.
They saw you, elbows in
your palms,
eyes closed.

They saw you smile
into the breeze,
saw you go to work
every day. They parked
next to you, at night.

No one was looking,
the first time,
not until you screamed.
Faces surfaced in windows,
fingers curled around
the edges of drapes.
Thirty eight peeping
Toms.

Did they hear you
cry and think about
carrying your groceries,
letting you sit for the kids?

The second time,
every one of them
fogged a window,
fingers lingering
on cradled phones.
A woman says,
"Someone else will
call.
Don't get involved."

How many men feared
a knife you faced
twice?

Did they hear you cry
and think about
doing something,
calling someone?

The third time,
no one believed it.
He wouldn't come back!
Horrified looks
met downcast eyes,
"I do not speak
English," one woman
will say, the sounds
of rape and murder
still crawling
in her ears.

Kitty, he said he
had to,
said women were
easier.
He said he did it,
Kitty,
but he only held
the knife.

They found him
guilty, Kitty -
they had enough
witnesses.

Not enough culprits.

He held the knife,
but they killed you,
Kitty.

Did they look at
a hundred and fifty yards
worth of bloodstains,
afterwards,
think about
the evil of
everyman's
indifference?

~~~~
This was immensely difficult to write, because I don't think I'll ever do it justice.
But it's a try!