“I don’t wanna talk about it”

Good for you and your new pretty flowers.

Good for you for your fun recent purchase, latest hobby, recent trip.

I don’t begrudge you these delights, but when they overshadow all else and you ask,

“Why do we have to talk about politics?”

‘Cause it feels important.

‘Cause it feels like the most important.

Here, in the richest country in the world, people are going hungry because of the actions of our government.

That feels bigger than politics. That feels like a wildly problematic value system.

People are being blown up in the Atlantic Ocean.

People can’t buy their medicine, study what they want, be who they are, love who they love, because of the power mongers who think it’s theirs to decide. (Newsflash: it’s not.)

I think about the harm, and the people dying, and ones whose livelihoods, families, hopes, homes are being stripped away, and it feels too important NOT to talk about.

You complained about your heating bill going up under the last administration, but the wealthiest people in the country just got a tax cut bigger than our income in a year, they’re being protected from accountability for grievous, heinous crimes against humanity – child humanity, no less – and you seem more annoyed that people are asking questions.

You don’t understand why I want to talk about it. I wonder why you don’t.

How can we not? Or are you afraid you might have to change your mind?

I had nothing but respect for you. As a human, as a “good” human being.

But now I just feel disappointment.

Your Christianity doesn’t seem very Christlike.

Are you not grieved that people are losing their food stamps just because they live in a blue state?

Are you not grieved that we’ve pulled SO MUCH humanitarian aid the world over that not just helped people by the millions, but that earned us goodwill?

Are you not grieved that we’re a laughing stock?

Are you not grieved that the color of ones’ skin is the sole decider of whether or not someone deserves consideration, understanding, or due process?

I guess I’m grateful to receive your kindness, as far as it goes, but I also wonder if I’m complicit to the greater problem if I receive said kindness when I know you’re not extending it to others that look or worship differently than you.

Super bummed. I wonder where the line is for you? When things are important enough to talk about?

Your discomfort may feel inconvenient, but I’d venture a guess that it’s waaay less uncomfortable than what the folks are experiencing who’re actually suffering under the aforementioned atrocities.

I mean, good for you and your comfortably oblivious life and option of not having to fear being arrested when you go to the grocery store.

But for tons and tons of other humans? Just like you? This shit is real.

I wonder when it’ll be for you?

Complacency looks like complicity and refusal to wrestle feels like hate. Not-love.

On the evolutionary continuum as a species? Let’s be better. Let’s share more, uplift more, grow in awareness, put ourselves in someone else’s shoes, help more. Not less. Not go backwards like we are right now.

Let’s start by tryna talk about it. We’re not business as usual. We’re in good vs. evil, right vs. wrong territory. It matters.

Some Shoes, a Snake, and a Straw

A local newspaper writer invited readers to accept a challenge to write a story (though I chose a rhyming form) using a shoe, a snake, and a straw. This is what I came up with, which to my delight and surprise, he chose for publication! I offer it here in response to the Color by Words blog story challenge.

I was 8 years old, ’bout 3rd grade, you see,

When I walked in the store that day.

My Mom was ho-hum 

But I was a-thrum 

Anticipation held all out at bay, 

It was

Anticipation held all at bay.

(For you can’t very well

As a kid just let tell 

of the thrill that is buying new shoes;

They make you jump higher look cooler run faster 

If you’re shy, bring you outta your shell, 

– Maybe –

If you’re shy bring you outta your shell.)

So I sauntered real cool

As I eyed up the stool 

Where decisions’d be made that would count.

Like a beacon of light

The stool shone all aright 

My innards a veritable fount,

– Say I –

Of excitement a veritable fount.

Too excited to talk

Real deliberate I walked

To the shoes that lined new on the wall.

That’s when he came in

Kinda tall, kinda thin

Glasses and ponytail donned, I recall

– That’s right –

A gray ponytail donned, I recall.

“Can I help you?” he asked

With a smirk that was masked

‘Neath a straw that he held ‘tween his lips.

He chewed it all ’round

It made nary a sound

But his words were sarcastic and quipped

– They were –

Words all sounding sarcastic and quipped. 

So onward I went

Tentative though not spent

From my search for the perfect new shoes.

Saw a blue and white pair

On their own little stair

Couldn’t wait to see what they could do

– Oh, man! –

Couldn’t wait to see what they could do.

But this salesman, this guy,

No matter how hard I tried

Wouldn’t let me get outta my head.

Condescending and mean

In his eye a deep gleam

That said, “Don’t make a mistake, little girl.”

– It did –

Say, “Don’t make a mistake, little girl.”

How dare he, this guy,

Come in here and try

To thwart the bliss of my getting new shoes!

Did he not think

That his straw, smirk, and wink

Were the bane of a kid’s ability to choose?

– Why not –

Know you’re the bane of a kid trying to choose?

Well I’m happy to say

That I bought shoes that day

In spite of that guy at the store.

(They were a bright white

With blue stripes that were light

I still remember the feel, what is more!

– I do –

Still remember their feel, what is more.)

So, grown-ups, please know

As the young ones who grow

In your presence are trying things out,

Don’t make them feel small

Condescend them at all

Or arrogantly throw ’round your clout

– Please don’t –

Take advantage of all your (old) clout.

Else they’ll think you a snake

Meany, phony, or fake

As they discern whether fight or just hide.

So please watch your tone

Get way down off your throne

Let them know you’re a guy on their side

– They need –

You to really just be on their side.

————————-

So that is my take

On the shoes, straw, and snake

From the gauntlet and challenge so thrown.

Robert Frost I am not

Just a dried up old snot

A once-kid in a person now grown

– I am –

A once-kid in a person now grown.