It is me
On the things in the news that persist and haunt
Pain confronts and astounds
Pain confronts and astounds
Makes me feel as if it is me
When it is raw and true
Makes me feel as if it is me
My younger son is 3 years old
He has shoes with velcro fasteners
And when we spent a few days at the bay
He loved the boats wanted to see the boats
All day
A post said that you must understand
You put your child in a boat
(Or the train or the bus)
(Or the train or the bus)
when it is safer than land
That mother is me
My older son plays at fighting and battles
Much to my dismay
Megablocks and a wooden wrench
Are imagined into firing things
He humors me because I don't like the word
When Tamir was lying on the floor
His teenage sister was handcuffed in a patrol car
Because the agony and despair
at seeing her brother dying
could not be contained
Both those children are me
And when Ferguson arose at the indignity
Of yet another assault
No matter the specific details
It was because the deeper truth
that if you are not perfect
Or white
You can become a thug in an instant
And you don't have to be guilty
To be given a death sentence
Because street justice is acceptable
Excessive is never a possibility
That shit gets old
And Ferguson is me
Standing up
I have a family that is the epitome
of the melting pot
It is easy to brush up against ignorance
And misunderstanding and prejudice
And yet somehow more often than not
The connection, however tentative, persists
And we celebrate and love
Often I read and see words of frustration
And impatience at the assertion of who matters, too
As if by declaring one's worth
one must be denigrating or devaluing another's
Therein is the truth that the anger and defensiveness brings to light
Oh, that is it, I note
It is what has been done by so many so often
that when the tables are turned
It hurts so much
And doesn't make any sense
So it must be your problem because it is not me
And the acrobatic logic and flippant dismissal
Or a clever and arrogant response to
What is really being said is
So easy and convenient and is
Sometimes me, too
Because it is pain that flashes
So hot and so strong
It is truth that blinds all the things
We think we know
And if we do not stop and consider
That they are in fact, just like me
We will succeed at carrying on
As if we didn't just stumble over ourselves
September 2015
When Tamir was lying on the floor
His teenage sister was handcuffed in a patrol car
Because the agony and despair
at seeing her brother dying
could not be contained
Both those children are me
And when Ferguson arose at the indignity
Of yet another assault
No matter the specific details
It was because the deeper truth
that if you are not perfect
Or white
You can become a thug in an instant
And you don't have to be guilty
To be given a death sentence
Because street justice is acceptable
Excessive is never a possibility
That shit gets old
And Ferguson is me
Standing up
I have a family that is the epitome
of the melting pot
It is easy to brush up against ignorance
And misunderstanding and prejudice
And yet somehow more often than not
The connection, however tentative, persists
And we celebrate and love
Often I read and see words of frustration
And impatience at the assertion of who matters, too
As if by declaring one's worth
one must be denigrating or devaluing another's
Therein is the truth that the anger and defensiveness brings to light
Oh, that is it, I note
It is what has been done by so many so often
that when the tables are turned
It hurts so much
And doesn't make any sense
So it must be your problem because it is not me
And the acrobatic logic and flippant dismissal
Or a clever and arrogant response to
What is really being said is
So easy and convenient and is
Sometimes me, too
Because it is pain that flashes
So hot and so strong
It is truth that blinds all the things
We think we know
And if we do not stop and consider
That they are in fact, just like me
We will succeed at carrying on
As if we didn't just stumble over ourselves
September 2015
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