When He saw famine,
He fed them
When He saw plague
He healed them
When He was reviled, persecuted
betrayed, scourged, broken,
impaled and crucified.
He blessed them.
When He bled,
He sanctified them
When He embraced the sins of a wicked world,
He redeemed them

They say he could smell death coming
as it skulked the woods
They say he’d follow the scent through the mountains
to where a grieving family stood.

They say he’d keep his distance
until invited in
And with their grim permission
He’d eat the dead one’s sins

They’d give a crusty loaf
and a bowl of homebrewed ale
And Barlow commenced to pawn his soul
To save this one’s from Hell

Three times Barlow passed the loaf
o’er the dead one’s ashen face
And with each somber passing
He vowed to take their place

He uttered words of binding
He whispered vile oaths
He invoked angels and demons
He made offerings to both

He passed the bread and ale
‘round the body seven times
He consumed the tainted host
And muttered, “This one’s sins are now mine.”


“He shall not walk again.
He will sleep within his grave.
His soul is not tormented.
His spirit has been saved.”

Barlow then departed
Moving slowly into the gloom
Like a fading apparition
Returning to its tomb

Mountain custom says
that sin eaters must be paid
Or they will return the sins
To the souls that they have saved

So families leave a token
made of silver, copper, or gold
At a crossroads in the mountains
Near the place where sins are sold

I remember the day that you were born
I held you while the nurse bathed you in warm water
I held you when they stamped your tiny footprints on your birth certificate
I handed you to Mom for the first time

I remember when you learned to crawl,
Because you didn’t.
You sat up, dug your heels in, flexed your knees,
And scooted across the floor.

I remember the morning when you threw a fit because you didn’t like what I had picked
Out for you to wear – you were two.

I remember the many miles that you and your brother
Drove in circles around our backyard in his electric John Deere

I remember the magical fairy who left you notes and stories at night.
Her name was Donnabella.

I remember the astonished look on the reading specialist’s face
When you dropped ‘oviparous’ on her after she asked you to,
“Name a word that starts with ‘O’.
No kindergarten was necessary for you.

I remember thinking, “I can’t believe they’re both in school.”

I remember when you were in Prep Choir
Singing, dancing
Loving it,
Having no idea where it would lead

I remember your years in Girls’ Choir
The Winter and Spring performances
The hard work in between
And the frustration you felt
at the favoritism
and at people
who didn’t put in their all

I remember how proud you were to become a percussionist
To learn to play the bass
and the snare
and the tympani
and the marimba
and everything else that you could hit or shake

I remember when you began to dip your toes into theater
Ensemble parts first
And Crew
Then cast
With clever bios in the program
Then larger roles
And more clever bios
Then leading roles
And a growing desire to make theater
your life’s work

And here you are, today
Pursuing just that.

I remember how every teacher
who has ever known you
has loved you
and still asks about you
How none of them are at all surprised
That you are where you are
Doing what you are doing

Now it’s your turn to remember
How much we love you
How much we are behind you
And how very proud we are of you.

Happy Birthday.

Love,

Dad

Friendship

Friendship is not a jewel or a coin or a gift
Jewels and coins and gifts don’t die
Friendship is not a flower or blown glass;
Friendship is not fragile
Friendship is not a poem or a melody
Because friendship cannot be forgotten

Friendship is a symphony
With grand overtures
Melodic harmonies
and unforgettable phrases
punctuated
by
Attacking staccatos
                 Vibrant arpeggios
then peaceful interludes

And sometimes
rests

Followed by thoughtful segues

All held together by a coherent structure
called
Respect

I’ve tried fitting in to your world
and I’ve become old and sick and weak
I’ve respected your ways
and I’ve lost my own
Now, I’m watching myself die in this cage
No longer.
Barbarians create peace – through strength
Savages are fearless, relentless
Unrefined men speak truth
Coarse men value deeds above words
Unorthodox men are unrestrained by limited thinking
Warriors defend the innocent and uphold honor
These are my kin

And it is to them that I return

My teachers say I have privilege
Because my skin is white
Does this privilege protect my family from
the bullets that fly at night?

They say I’ve
Unearned advantages
not given to other races,
If there’s a Black kid somewhere who wants my life
I’d gladly trade them places

They can have the ****** homeless guy
Sleeping by the door
They’re free to take the rancid trash
that litters
Our hallway floor
They can have the drugs and needles
the diarrhea on the stairs
They can have the hopelessness and misery
that I see everywhere

My mom works at two jobs
In the day and late at night
My dad’s upstate in prison
Locked up since I was five
Our apartment’s filled with roaches
and mice that sneak around;
the rats that move inside the walls
make a scratching sound

I wash our clothes in the bathtub
Cause the laundry’s not too safe
Our neighbor was robbed by **** heads,
they slashed him in the face

The mold around the windows
makes my sister sick
Every day I hear her wheezing
struggling for each breath
I worry how Mom would handle
another child’s death

Some days there’s food for us to eat
Some days there is not
The school food wasn’t perfect,
but at least the stuff was hot
Now the small bus brings us sandwiches,
string cheese and a piece of fruit
I wish they delivered on weekends,
We get hungry on those days too

If this is the privilege my whiteness earns
You can have it back
I don’t think squalor plays favorites
White, Hispanic, or Black…

Who Are You?

You are the illegal alien who burns my country’s flag
You are the teenager who breaks my shop’s windows
You are the one in the hoodie who spat on the Veteran in a wheelchair
You are the **** who hit my daughter, the cop, with a brick
You are the one who firebombed the courthouse
You are the rioter who put me out of a job
You are the ‘demonstrator’ who vandalized my apartment building
You are the activist who looted the stores
You are the gunman who kills dozens of people every week in Chicago
You are the ******* who hobnobs with the rich and famous –
Because you are too.

I don’t care who you vote for.
I despise you for what you do.