an alternative poem

How to take the next steps? We knew it would be bad. We didn’t want to jinx ourselves but we started the process of bracing for the fall that at least some parts of us thought would never come. But it did.

There’s precedence, but those were the bad old days. We were supposed to have realized that, on paper anyway, nevermind the impoverished brown bodies still caught in the crossfire of ingrained white supremacy. But there is.

Now we read dystopia like we’re listening to breakup ballads in the dark, and we try and resist while we process. It’s not as easy as it sounds. Life as it was before is still going on, for most of us. Except for those who can’t come back now. Except for those who already lived on this knife’s edge.

Did our parents survive worse?

That’s yet to be seen.

The worst is yet to come.

But he can’t fire all of us.


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