On Writing a Poem

On Writing a Poem                   

       or

We’re Guilty of Compassion and the Troops are Coming  

        or

They, Who Loved Life As Much As We   

        or

What Keeps Her Up at Night

       or

On the Eve of Assault

(This poem has 5 titles.

I couldn’t choose just one, so I kept all five.

All five constitute one title.

WordPress didn’t like that.

Would only let me have one.

So here we are.)

 

 

How does she write a poem

when the city she has lived in for 52 years is about to be 

invaded militarily by an army her taxes paid for compulsorily

being, as we are, here, in San Francisco, guilty of compassion

 

Guilty as are ten whole states — sanctuary states.

(California,  Colorado, Connecticut, Illinois, Massachusetts,

New Jersey, New Mexico, New York,  Oregon, Vermont)

Guilty as are 133 counties across America — sanctuary counties.

Guilty as are 30 cities across America — sanctuary cities.  (including all the major ones, New York City, Chicago, Boston, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Baltimore, Jackson, Seattle, and a lot more)

(As of 2018,

the population of California was 39.56 million

the population of Illinois was 12.74 million

the population of New York State was 19.54 million

the population of Colorado was 5.69 million

the population of New Jersey was 8.909 million

the population of Connecticut was 3.57 million

the population of Massachusetts was  6.90 million

the population of New Mexico was 2.09 million

the population of Oregon was  4.19 million

the population of Vermont was 626,000.

the population of Seattle was 724,746

the population of Baltimore was 619,493)

 

Add it up… I mean just poetically and numerically add it up.

Over one hundred million live in sanctuary cities, counties, and states.

Should we be building barricades

 

Just how the fuck is she supposed to

write a poem

about the bees who are dying

and the birds no longer flying

and the children locked in cages sick

without health care and sexually molested

                                                                

Just really for chrissake how is she supposed to

write a poem

that rhymes children dying and president lying

climate emergency and the sixth great extinction?

 

Should she close or open her eyes?

listen to dog whistles meant for the alt right

taste salty tears of people deported

or sorted (OUT) before they get to the border

 

When she hears Third Reich resonance should she pretend there was never

a Kristallnacht, No breaking of glass

No Auschwitz, No gas?

 

Should she reason that perhaps there are 

two sane sides to the insanity of this mighty State

that we need to hear equally from those who speak science 

and those who preach fear-based bigotry and hate

 

Should she make sure the lines of her poem are the right length

While lines of asylum seekers, hungry, frightened, cold, and detained                        

wait on the Mexican side of the absurd wall-that-Congress-voted-not-to-build-being-built-

anyway on lands that hold indigenous peoples’ remains

 

She’s trying to figure out how to sleep

because her body keeps waking her up 

at 3am asking why the fuck she’s trying to sleep

when there’s an emergency and work to be done

 

Her body says sleeping, eating, writing a poem, 

chatting with a friend in the garden — her body has so much to say —

Is this how they welcomed Hitler’s troops into sanctuary cities

and took people away

                                                                                              

The first betrayal was Vietnam, those poor innocent people of Vietnam

who needed to sort out their own post-colonial misery

who didn’t need America spraying agent orange and dropping napalm 

on them    They who loved life as much as we

 

How did she ever think they wouldn’t eventually be coming for us

She loops crying and rage with numb solitude

She’s  tired, determined, and confused

Not knowing the outcome

isn’t a free pass to do nothing

 

Please tell her what to write a poem about

a prompt prompt if you please

sorry for the urgency,   but

heavily armed troops are about to invade our city

xo,

Gayle

                                                                                                                                  

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