The literati mafia

all day I’ve been thinking of
what I’m facing,
soon going home to my family,

4th of July fireworks,
festivities, dreading the
possibility of seeing
those I don’t wish to see.

driving into the state
will cause anxiety,
no welcome nostalgia
washing over me,

as the home I felt safe in,
torn down and razed,
now a church parking lot for
the confused and dazed.

and yeah,
that’s easy for me to say,
down here, hidden from
the view of the Beehive state,
from a childhood I can’t forget,
I was one of them,
but now I’ve defected,

seen not as a human,
but a pitiful case
of a woman, child, mother
who lost her way,
from God’s forgiving gaze,
words of prophets denied,
denounced as hate,
meant to suppress and restrict
from any life enjoyment,

deeper still from the time
needed to reflect,
on times malicious and sad,

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