You’ll find it
At the top of the hill,
In that house no one
Lives in anymore,
Where that one family
Nobody talks about
Endured all those
Unmentionable things,
Collective loss of
Memory, the weight of
What we actually are.
They are entrusted
With the responsibility
Of governing, moving
The country forward.
They commence their
Solemn duty with the
Only thing that makes
Any sense to them:
Steeply boosting funding for
Waging war and drastically
Cutting programs that
Help the poor.
Waking up, another
Fear-infested day,
Reading the headlines
Stemming directly from
His own toxicity,
Him, there but for
Circumstance, separation of
Only moment and location,
Already part of the
Horror, anticipating the
Inevitable conclusion.
Something happens at some point,
A troubling change of demeanor,
The life leaves her eyes,
Optimism and hope succumb to
Baser beliefs inculcated long ago
And exploited anew more recently,
The need to be loved erasing
Reason, empathy, decency.
An unsettling timbre infiltrates
Her voice, a syrupy monotone
Masquerading as moderation.
She aligns herself with her oppressors,
Sympathizing with their plight,
Helping to promote a false narrative
Shamelessly smeared with fear and hate.
She loses her self,
Becoming a champion for injustice,
Reveling in the calculated support
She receives from the darkness.
They see her coming, they always do.
A ragtag group of
People unhappy with
Where the country is going
Assemble to voice
Their anger at a
System that has
Let them down.
Waving flags,
Chanting slogans,
United in their vitriol,
They rail against
The people who aren’t
Making their lives
More difficult.
In a Swiss bank account
A tidy fortune slumbers,
Carefully tucked in
By one of the few
Who betrays the trust
Of the many, turning them
Against their only allies.
I can’t memorize
Anything to save my life,
Can’t recite poetry
Off the top of my head
To impress a crowd or
Advance in academia,
But I innately understand
The feelings a work evokes,
And what it means
On a deeper level,
That’s where I live,
Short on specifics,
A form of perception
Beyond particular words.
Each day he visits
The same store,
Hoping she’ll be there
So they might share
Some small talk about
The weather or what’s
Going on around town.
It’s been like this
For almost a year,
Smiles and pleasantries
Exchanged briefly.
Since she was
A little girl,
She’s been told
That this is
What she should
Behave like,
And this is what
She should look like,
And this is whom
She should marry,
And this is what
She should wear,
And that this
Is her lot in life.
As soon as
She possibly can,
She leaves it all
Behind for the joy of
Self-determination and
The freedom to celebrate
Who she really is and
Follow her own rules.
Family reunion,
Everyone looks happy,
All the guys
Standing by the barbecue
One-upping each other,
All the women in
The kitchen talking
About the men,
Kids running around,
Underlying misery.
