On the day after the inauguration, millions of Americans (myself included) took to the streets to affirm a common belief in decency, respect, and human rights. For me, this occasion was both deeply inspiring and horrifyingly depressing. Thus, my poem.


How free I feel
huddling the margin
my cardboard sign
asking for change
passing cars honking
or jabbing middle fingers
in my general direction

how free I feel
pressing send
after having composed
an indignant missive
after having calibrated
a tethered screed
apropos the occasion

how free I feel
reading coverage
of my brothers and sisters
castigated and clipped
for possessing the nerve
to demand participation
in how their boundaries are drawn

how free I feel
in hearing how we should go
back to before’s
seen not heard
back to before’s
shadow crowd
we could tell were free

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