So...I didn't know what to write tonight and was running low on inspiration. In an act of creative desperation, I Googled "poetry line generator." After a little digging, I landed on this website .
This was the line that was handed to me: "Ask the advice of old
people in the form of acknowledgements from the back of a novel."
Huh? I dunno. I didn't use it as a line per say, but this writing is what followed.
The author would like to acknowledge...
The author would like to acknowledge the change she has not yet seen
and the perspective she does not have.
There are so many people to thank for getting me to this point
and so many still holding us back.
We ask, rhetorically, how we are still here, now,
bodies stuck in the mire of legislation
but wonder how we got to be here
and if this is an end point.
History in the making -
I've seen only 27 years,
culminating in a woman in a Texas courthouse
storying history for 13 hours, while another
asks at what point she can be seen and heard
and then 6 men in Ohio
make choices behind closed doors.
Seen and heard, heard and seen
this shit is complicated.
This author owns the rights to these words
but asks for the right to her body.
We watch history rewind itself
play in slow motion like we're
uncertain of the era
you've come a long way, baby, they say
show us movies on reels that clack and whir
hand us a VHS and say
while men gather to watch 3D blue-ray instant stream
have the freedom to get it when they want it
make it more real than reality
feel like they're part of the action
then give us what we've already got
as history remakes itself into
a gift that keeps on giving
the same tired present.
Haven't we been here before?
This poet takes up space on the page:
big, fat, letters that breed
more letters until this page is
full, this author writes
until she finds
the clearer picture.
There are just too many questions:
can we ask them again?
Will they be heard?
Or shall we birth them anew?