You’re within me
Talking, stalking
In the guise of a false memory
Arbiter of what is and is not
A cloaked and shadowed form
Whom I had hoped to forget
Feebly I had prayed that I could live in peace
But your ghostly spectre is haunting
Taunting with no surcease
Virulently cawing ‘why?’
and ‘how could this be?’
I can’t answer
And then - again - I see you die
die, inside of me
Like a fire lit too soon
In an inhospitable domain
Fate, it seems, had already declared your doom.
Fate.
As though I were vindicated of agency
As though I were not driven by others’ fear and hate
Fear.
Of what could be
Of the relief if you were to just disappear
Alone.
I, the adjudicator
Fear to leave my home
False dawn
For home offers no such sanctuary from your
Memory I so privately mourn
Virulently cawing ‘why?’
and ‘how could this be’
You can’t answer
I can’t answer
And then -again - I see you die,
Die, inside of me.
Rebecca .A. Huxley
I remember when
we asked about the quality of schools
before buying a house.
Now we know,
whether house shopping or not,
the educational outcomes will not be good
however better some than most,
yet now we need to ask about the quality of the local police department
before selecting a house
where they might prefer battering rams to open doors
over a more civil knock,
might prefer shooting to asking questions.
I remember when
we asked how liberating from wars
and violence
and oppression
our political candidates could imagine
and rhetorically explicate,
hope to promise.
Now we too seldom hope
for such vision of lofty and deeply rich heights,
and we need to ask the Government Economic Analysts
how many more will lose basic health and safety care-receiving,
because we cannot choose to care for all
in the latest version
of the virulently fascist anti-health bill.
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