(Second of two I wrote during a conference call at work yesterday. These would be the first two poems I've written in over a year. Tarted this one up today. Onward and upward...)
Boko Haram
I have discovered
if I mis-speak their name,
call them, say, Boca Raton,
they are far less
frightening.
Though, to be fair,
I haven't been to Boca Raton;
perhaps it's terrifying
in its own unique way,
I don't know.
Also,
admittedly, I might have
a different take on this
glib observation
if I were one of the girls.
But, hey -
that's privilege for you.
IBL:mm
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I've recently been telling myself that strongly categoric words such as hypocrisy and morality and principle are in fact subject to shades of gray just like everything else. Sure it's great to draw lines, narrow and bright. But fascists love that. When I pick up other people's dog poop, I don't want to feel anger. I don't want to feel righteous. I just want to continue with whatever was occupying my thoughts and move on. But having done this a number of times, I don't want to feel wrong when I take a pass. I don't want to feel hypocritical, whether I "do the right thing" or not. We feel so compelled to categorize. And to be true to a given category or identity, there has to be consistency. And the fascists love consistency. The tabloid thinkers and finger pointers pass judgement. They're happy to take a single event and make their label. No politician is going to say, "Well, sometimes I'm going to do this and other times I'm not." They'll just use a lot of words to say nothing. It's the only safe course. What if all laws had some random element to their enforcement? What if a law was seen as a guideline, a preference, and not an absolute? What if we started living in a society that was not constantly trying to reach absolute definitions of behavior? What if we all appreciated a little wiggle room?
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