i marked the
inauguration with
feelings of trepidation
let’s remember that
“change” is not a magic
word made of sparkles
and dust, rather one
spelled with sleepless
nights, burning words,
and blood
let’s remember that
the “Dream” is not
a finish line to be
crossed, rather a reality
we must construct
first in our minds and in
our lives
and let’s remember that
our leaders cannot be God
sweeping down from the clouds
(or the White House) to pluck
you from your own troubles.
it’s like
a pirate is
forcing me
to walk one
of two planks:
at the bottom
of the first a
shark waits with
gleaming teeth
the taste of blood
already in its mouth
while a leap off
the other would
entail filling the
entrails of a giant
fucking squid.
(perched upon
such a precarious
position, i pray the
pirate will suddenly die
leaving me free
to sail away.)
In the act,
in the midst
of congratulating myself
on being a humanitarian
on being a swell guy,
I realized I didn’t do
what I was so proud of;
I didn’t stop;
I didn’t help;
I didn’t lend a hand;
I left a man,
walking on the road
in the 107 degree heat
and made excuses to myself
saying: Iwasn’tgoingveryfar;
Iwasabouttostop;hemighthave
stunk;hemighthaverobbedme;it
mightn’thavebeensafe;whatifI
waslate;someoneelsewillhelp.
Accusing myself with my excuses,
I realized that just because
I am voting for Obama doesn’t
mean that I don’t still suck,
just like everybody else.
the sieve and the sand 