Kicking off the Democratic Convention with this poem of mine:
To Honest Conversations
You posed the question, “Why don’t people have honest conversations with each
other?” it lingered there between us – an imploded bubble asking to be popped –
but when I reached out my finger to try, you were already gone.
Honestly, I implore, do you really care to know?
Or conveniently do you use ‘people’ to distance yourself from the equation?
For people have no faces, no personal intimacies, no favorite movies or late night snacks, no pet names, no scent. Asking why of a collective mass is like asking why of time, it’s too infinite to ever really know.
Ah! But scratch ‘people’ and insert ‘I’ into your question, “Why don’t I have honest conversations?” and now it becomes your problem. And, if I’m to speak honestly here, sir, problems are something you tuck under your bed, stuff into a closet, leave on the floor for someone else to clean up.
Honestly, I implore, why are problems something you wish to ignore?
Bring on the Donkeys,
A Warrior Princess