His forebears fought
Mill owners for
Some modest bit of
Dignity at work.
Not so many years later,
He ascends to the
Pinnacle of his profession,
The highest seat of power.
He takes the hard-fought
Lessons of the past and
Ruthlessly maims them,
Juris without prudence.
A snide retort and sneer
All that remain of
A legacy of struggle
For fairness.
This is what
It comes to and
What it’s always
Been like.
A human being’s
Life extinguished
By a system that
Doesn’t care for him,
About him,
Or his kind,
And a person who
Fears him.
Rabid supporters
Line up
To perpetuate
The sad narrative.
Everyone asks him
About his fancy new car;
He revels in the attention,
Offering gleefully meticulous
Explanations about everything
From how he bought it to
What’s going on under the hood,
A conspicuous absence of any
Conversation of real substance
Or a life of any significance
Beyond what everyone is
Already comfortable talking about,
A group of people standing
Around wearing masks.
Single-minded, limited,
Inflexible, unyielding
Perspective, unwavering,
Unchanging, ungenerous.
Closed-fisted myopia
Fed by runaway fear.
A history of pain
Repeats itself.
Effortlessly flows the line onto
Paper, tracing its own trajectory,
Following its own muse,
Imbuing its own energy and inspiration
On fortunate space. Pensive,
Thoughtful, thoughtless,
Eclipsed by passion,
Joyful abandon manifest.
Instinctive, automatic,
A whirl of ecstasy.
It takes a great deal of
Cowardice to hate another
Human being, vulnerability
And love being far better
Measures of courage, a
Certainty discovered late,
If at all, by so many
People who live in fear.
Looking out over the sea of
Beaming, proud, sputtering faces,
He remembers no specific
Moment when he was forced
To decide, but rather a pervasive,
All-encompassing presumption
Of how it should, would be.
His heart’s desires too small,
Too insignificant to compete with
Countless years of tradition
Pulling him into a metal box and
Swiftly sealing it with powerfully
Misplaced notions, expectations.
Apparently, all I was worth was
One phone call in the last
I don’t know how many years.
You told me how important I was.
Words come and go, floating by in
Teeming or sparse configurations.
Alluding, promising, seducing,
Unconvincing me.
Faded, creased picture in my mind.
I try to recall what you look like;
A mocking expression, a snide smile,
My worth rushes into focus.
Spewing from his mouth,
A most foul string
Of words, assembled and
Projected with vitriol
At the object of his hatred.
Exposed as a frothing bigot,
He goes into standard
Damage control mode,
Insisting he’s not like that,
That he respects all people.
Things progress as expected,
He minimizes his misconduct
And begins whining about how
He and his family have become
Targets of negativity.
You can’t possibly hear me when
You’re talking, every rebuttal a
Blow to cordiality, each defensive
Twitch eroding trust, weakening
Compassion. I realize you know
Everything and those who bear this
Gift have a crucial responsibility to
Ceaselessly share their thoughts,
Bury all others in the avalanche.