THE WAITING AMERICA

-


I suppose I can succumb to defeat

like a gazelle on the Serengeti

and allow my fears

to sink their razor-sharp teeth into the

nape of my neck

as I lie there

motionless 

and wait

to slowly die

just like my country is about to.


I suppose I can watch my joy sail away

like the incinerating corpse of a Viking pyre


I suppose I can release my faith

And cut off all contact

to anyone who lives beyond the manifest heavens


I suppose I can abandon all hope

and wait for the floods to arrive


I suppose I can erase my dreams

and live with the torment of a blank canvas.


I suppose I can divorce my soul

and pretend that we’ve never met.


I suppose we can

cover our mirrors, recite the Kaddish

and Howl like Ginsberg.

hold an Irish wake

perform a Buddhist sky burial

march and lament  in a Jazz procession

celebrate Dia de los Muertes

and watch the ashes of our beloved dissolve

in the wide open deep



Or we can take a few days 

to wobble back up

onto our unsteady feet and

shake off

the deluge

the shock and the despair

like a dog coming in from the rain

and get down to the business of 

being reborn

to defend

and protect

what our laws guarantee

the right for everyone 

to be respected

and loved


To be able to pray

and dance

under a sun

that warms us without prejudice

Because planets and stars do not discriminate

Only the most threatened do.


So cry, cry, cry 

And then create, through an alchemy of tears, 

the golden fuel that will empower you

to do the right thing

by any means necessary

to drift until the dawn of the waiting America

that we all so desperately want

and is just beyond our reach.

To band together

to sing

and stomp 

and roar

we glorious sons and daughters of equality

to march and shout louder than anyone

And say

with the utmost clarity and conviction


Not on my watch.


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