by Harper Smith
unprecedented times
the weather dips to freezing and then
is followed by unimaginable highs
unprecedented, unimaginable, unreal
but I can imagine it very well–
in the way the newscaster’s eyes betray himself
as he reads out the names of the dying
in the way a simple google search
yields me thousands of images
men and women pressed to the ground
for their crimes
of existence, of being;
outing policies in schools condemn children for the same
at my library they hand out cards
little white squares
telling of one’s rights
not to be searched
not to be questioned
not to be killed
freedom, a human right
it does not matter where you came from
my parents tell me the weather is normal
when it blazes 90 and chills me at 65
all in the span of one week
there’s nothing to worry about
they reassure me
the verbal equivalent
of a pat to the cheek
for an overly curious child
who wonders, for the first time, who put them in charge
it’s funny how quickly
unprecedented
can become
pedestrian
with stories of horrors that we America
cannot seem to swallow
alligator alcatraz in plain sight
it dulls around the edges
to think about
how close we’ve come
to our own personal auschwitz
overdramatic
overexaggeration
over the top.
these are the words they will say to us
when we express how it makes us feel
distressed
deranged
destroyed
a cacophony of young voices
breathing in the smoke of a world we cannot change
can only hope will remain long enough for us to douse it in water
teenage
terrified
trembling
hands
as I read through the stories
–their stories–
–our story–
and shudder.
the weather isn’t fine
our country isn’t absolved
our ignorance is not as safe
as we seem to think
I want to have hope
and I do
but what is hope
in the face of people
who only take my
fear
as another reason
to not believe.
