Trimesters: a journey in three parts
Will they wonder how I was radicalized?
Wrong word: I'm as liable to commit terror as a
One angry woman? Mostly harmless.
Our will weaponizes our bodies:
catastrophic destruction of the good ole.
Generations fail to rise against the ruling hand.
How's the climate change?
Alter them or nothing can change.
Goddess knows a good revolution beats douching.
"It's a girl,” radicalized me.
"Must be a boy: bald as an egg."
Photo of Poppa in his white infant dress radicalized me.
I abandoned my clunky Mary Janes in the climbing tree.
Career options: teacher, nurse, mother radicalized me.
My picture books promised astronaut.
Playground segregation radicalized me.
My fighting style emerged stubbornly interdisciplinary.
Learning all subjects with steady effort radicalized me.
Being told I would make a fine secretary.
Learning how to maintain a car radicalized me.
Being told I didn't need to drive.
Learning to write software for money radicalized me.
Being told my patch was rejected, his accepted.
Learning to apply for work where I met every requirement radicalized me.
Being told I was overqualified or unsuitable.
Seeing the pervasive assumptions of accepted norms widened my vigilant eyes.
Your being alerts when the sleepy tiger stretches.
Hearing the whispered stories of denied justice widened my attentive ears.
Your being crouches when another rabbit's wound admonishes.
Tasting the sharp edge of conditional acceptance widened my crimson mouth.
Your being tenses when the wedge of change finds leverage.
Feeling my sinew creak at the end of my rope widened my aching scars.
Your being springs when wealth debases your subsistence.
You can't go on.
You will go on.
What other choice is there?
When you ask the question, you prepare the journey.
What choice is there?
When you state the problem, you walk the road.
What is there?
When you converge the streams, you redraw the map.
When you reach the destination, you discover the horizon.
Reckoning comes to roost.