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Jan 2020
A stranger asked me about my political beliefs--
only, I misheard her,
thought she'd said political beefs.

So I thought I'd serve them to her
to digest
or chew on
at her leisure.

And thus I outlined the stakes--
sorry, I mean--
I set down the steaks:

Beef number one,
served well done,
tough:
the Right claims to uphold the sanctity of life,
but won't spend any money to care for it.
How leathery!
How tasteless!

Beef number two,
mid-well:
served the way they leave kids
grey and hardly pink,
starving.
Meanwhile, they turn away the drowning,
and while tears fill children's eyes,
They advocate war.

What insanity!
What sanctity?

Beef number three,
medium:
served pink and with some juice,
like bodies putrefying,
but they don't care because they're
lying,
stupefying their base--
all the while children dying--
do different colors not belong to the same human race?

Beef number four,
served medium-rare:
tenderly, but not totally rawly,
they take Pride
in blacking out the colors of the rainbow,
suffocating black lives,
subverting their skin,
bruising it
Black and Blue.
Cries of "I can't breathe" choked short,
because
Blue lives matter?

Beef number five,
rare--
served juicy and bleeding,
heart still
beating:

America claims she is the land of opportunity--
claims all men are born in equal trees

Sorry--
claims equality--
I misheard Her.

Because all I see,
are inequal trees:
crooked branches,
stunted growth.

So much depends
Upon
who cares for them?
What soil they root in?
What color leaves they bear...


Who cares?

Sorry,
I mean...

Who dares?
Frank DeRose
Written by
Frank DeRose  New Market, MD
(New Market, MD)   
229
 
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