Tagged: privilege

in the backyard, all

in the backyard, all
alone with our
fig tree – the
that i didn’t have
to choose


every third hour, there

it’s all well and good

it’s all well and good
to state that we will not show
up, that we will take
to the streets, show
solidarity by stepping out
of housework, child
care, maybe apply
some self-care at
the local beauty
parlor, therapeutic
spa. meanwhile, a
host of silent women
will step in
to fill the gap, make
the lunches, file the
nails, listen to and
nod and listen to the
ones who insist on
being heard

own up to the

own up to the
privileges you have
and all the ones they
think you have, my
mother told me. no
one wants to believe
any differently,
prolong the magic

not crying in the

not crying in the
shower because it’s cliché
allows for half a
dozen other options,
like turning the valve
all the way to the
right until the heart
clinches, or turning
it fully left until
conviction melts.
then there’s always
the option of turning
it off – some people
consider crying
in the shower,
while others
stand in long lines
waiting to fill their pails

joy is rediscovering

joy is rediscovering
each other –
on days like
these, on days
not like these –
make it the
same challenge,
the same privilege

privilege falls across