when i see that judges have used
the word ‘evil’ to describe a criminal
i get scared and hopeless
no matter what the crime was.
in the days after 9/11
as the homeless adult day room
staff were gathering into groups
to process the effects of the attack
one of my co-workers said
“i know we all want this
bin laden guy dead” and i
had to speak up. i didn’t
want that in my name, i don’t want
to throw death around like it’s a
reward or punishment. i couldn’t do it
and i wouldn’t ask others to.
when i read the hateful comments
about ‘hoping they get what
they deserve’ in the news comments section
i wince. people are inventive and
rage-filled and nearly demonic.
i’ll write poetry like that but
i would never post a comment like that.
that’s MY ‘right speech.’ it’s different.
that’s me calling out hypocrisy.
just because someone trampled on humans
doesn’t mean you trample them.
and i know there are scenes,
i know there are cases,
i know there are moments when
this sort of vision is impossible,
but just so you remember,
you’d be surprised at who all is a victim.
i need to be dancing,
over sole massager.
to lean up
like a board.
stick a swivel in it,
stare at lawns
as i sweat indoors.
to plank out,
put a hinge on it,
and feel the roof of sky
brush my backbone.
i’m rusty neck,
new springtime clouds,
i’m bowed and tremulous,