belabored
“I have learned that
racism affects African American people
every day of their lives.”
the labors of Sisyphus
were punitive –
just desserts and
fair penance for
underhanded, dirty dog
double-dealing.
an underworld eternity
of useless effort, of
endless blistering frustration
some god must be offended
some Poseidon, a lightning thief
escaping, marked this realm
besting Zeus. we are accursed
with knowledge
understanding is a boulder;
the truth a heavy weight
rolling back to crush us
on repeat
ignorance speaks – and whoosh!
dust flies – that two ton weight rolls on
like mercy hasn’t.
like empathy can’t.
like racism always does
rolling the rock –
straining for uplift
only for its weight to crash down —
crushing.
The other night I tried to write a letter to an acquaintance who wrote a letter with the above statement… I sat with it for two days before I tried to respond and then determined that it’s just… too… much… work. During that time, however, I came up with a metaphor: if a child you loved was bitten by a dog, you would in nowise stand as they wailed, bleeding, telling them of all the breeds of dogs which are Good Dogs, which have not bitten them. You would, I hope, if you possess your humanity, bandage and hold them and grieve with them over this dog, this breach of trust, this theft of innocence, this pain, this bite.
Oh, the difficulty of hearing from someone in a position of trust about “the vast majority” of policemen with “integrity and courage” just now… it is both unnecessary and repellent — the same as grandiosely stating that all lives matter to God, because DUH, but that’s not the point just now.
Why do people find humanity, empathy, and solidarity so hard?