I wish the poem was nicer/

on this eve of the day we celebrate hospitality/

and survival/

we are treacle nice/

or try to be/

shooting for the hallmark pretty as a picture/

life/

considered rude/

to point out the hungry/

the lonely/

the ones sleeping under bridges/

are there the other 364 days of the year/

and we care less/

even ruder to point out the hospitality we celebrate/

was wrapped in genocide/

not unlike the ones we are/

currently presiding over/

even now/

choke down feelings/

dry as the un-injected bird/

chase sugar highs/

with favorite shortbread cookies/

whole packages/

until/

like Jeremiah/

God sends we out/

to proclaim destruction and reconstruction/

with  broken bone dry eyes

Light struck/
the corner of my plate/
the art in my cup cooling/
while I thought of the power/
in my hand/
power to hurt/
power to heal/
power to build up/
power to destroy/
what a laugh/
we imagine ourselves tiny/
domesticated gods/
ruling the somewhat tattered/
shreds of light/
that occur to us/
it would be better to simply/
find a friend in a stranger/
and chat
 

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Light struck/

the corner of my plate/

the art in my cup cooling/

while I thought of the power/

in my hand/

power to hurt/

power to heal/

power to build up/

power to destroy/

what a laugh/

we imagine ourselves tiny/

domesticated gods/

ruling the somewhat tattered/

shreds of light/

that occur to us/

it would be better to simply/

find a friend in a stranger/

and chat

 

Sometimes we take a vacation
from fear
shut the door bags packed
send the mail
to the
dead letters station
that scared and frightened person
doesn’t live
there
any
more
 

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Sometimes we take a vacation

from fear

shut the door bags packed

send the mail

to the

dead letters station

that scared and frightened person

doesn’t live

there

any

more

 

Perhaps things would be different sooner/ If we came outside of our comfort zone/ maybe sacrificed for a season/ sometimes I think it is as if we got addicted/ to all the sacrifices others made to smooth our path/ the doors they pushed open/ the work they did while telling us to concentrate on making our own way/ and now we really feel entitled/ have lived this way a long time/ we sound petulant…

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Perhaps things would be different sooner/

If we came outside of our comfort zone/

maybe sacrificed for a season/

sometimes I think it is as if we got addicted/

to all the sacrifices others made to smooth our path/

the doors they pushed open/

the work they did while telling us to concentrate on making our own way/

and now we really feel entitled/

have lived this way a long time/

we sound petulant to our own ears/

know no other way to live/

grieve that there’s no one there too pamper and ease us/

but what if it is our turn/

to give up the entertainment we like/

the pet peeves and projects/

what if it is our turn to gather the children/

who need us/

and ease their way/

teach them/

mentor them/

see them/

sacrifice our time/

energy and means/

for them/

what if it is our turn/

and we never step up to it/

what then?

It will be quite a day/ When we are shocked/ to hear of dehumanization/ the day distinctions that/ parse hate into a salubrious gaze/ unseeing/ the real deal of making the neighbor less/ may be the order of this day/ but I declare/ quite a day is coming/ On it we will hardly be believed/ though we will cite evidence/ build museums/ tell the truth/ that once we lived the fabric of tolerating/…

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It will be quite a day/

When we are shocked/

to hear of dehumanization/

the day distinctions that/

parse hate into a salubrious gaze/

unseeing/

the real deal of making the neighbor less/

may be the order of this day/

but I declare/

quite a day is coming/

On it we will hardly be believed/

though we will cite evidence/

build museums/

tell the truth/

that once we lived the fabric of tolerating/

evil/

weaved the essence of dehumanization/

like butter wouldn’t melt in our mouths/

in our churches/

schools/

families/

the day will come/

quite a day/

when our privilege unmasked is unimaginable/

and the very thought of who we are now/

will make the children/

weep

 

Some days/ I run into myself/ Like  a character in the old cartoons/ bang into the wall of me/ my stuff is impenetrable/ and I bounce off of it/ unable to budge or break through/ lately I see it happening/ feel the familiar bruising/ say to myself this is what you do darling/ you eat yourself alive/ you work too hard and eat your liver/ knowing that like some mythic/ small god of fire/ you will…

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