In Memoriam: A Poem

 for George H.W. Bush, written December, 2018

In Memoriam,

Part I

Even though I know

The government is

––And always has been––

Filled with criminals,

Warmongers, racists, misogynists,

And oligarchs…

Even though I know

The people are

––And always have been––

The ones I look to

For justice and caring,

For leadership and grace…

On this day of shuttered services

––No SSI, no passports,

No mail delivered,

or decisions made––

To honor one who damaged generations.

I feel angry.

In memoriam for a person who profited

From murder and hatred.

Who sowed addiction and lies,

War and neglect.

The government shits on its people.

The people are left to clean up the mess.

And eventually, the people

Rise up.

And plant fresh flowers.

Fruits and vegetables.

The people, resilient and rebellious,

Somehow grow.

But that day?

Is not today.

Today, is a day for anger,

Incandescent in the bitter, winter wind.

Today, we remember

All that has come before.

Tomorrow, we take up planning

What comes next.

Tomorrow, we continue

To nurture one another

And spit on those who would

Grind us into dust.

We are human.

We feel angry.

And our greatest power

Is the knowledge

That, even angry, we can still love.

***

Part II

Most often,

I do not speak of politics,

But of justice.

Not of politicians,

But of mutual aid.

But be their last names

Clinton or Bush,

Reagan or Obama,

Or the one who shall not

Even bear a name…

All I see are legacies of pain.

Torture. Bombings. Assassinations.

Crack cocaine flooding city streets.

Men dying of curable diseases,

Told to change their behavior.

Women raped by those in power,

Told to change their clothes.

Deals made with despots

As earth cracks,

And skies and oceans choke.

Prisons built from stolen dreams.

Dark skinned people shot, and caged,

And teargassed in the streets.

I see arrogance and greed,

And the easy knowledge

That silence can be bought.

The assumption that

No one will remember

The misdeeds come to light.

The rulers count on our forgetting.

They count on our exhaustion,

Or on eyes held steady toward

The prize of fool’s gold, and

A piece of pie that

Was never baked for us.

The oligarchs know

How their billions are accrued,

And they don’t care.

They wipe their blood stained feet

Upon the masses, and go about

Their dirty business

As more die.

We must remember.

We must recall their crimes.

And we must insist

Upon our Sovereignty.

And on our love

For one another.

And on the future

Of this good, green earth.

Together, we must rise.

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A link for those needing some history and context.

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#GeorgeBush #poetry #Politics

I Am Not (Just) Pro-Choice

In the late 1980s, I did clinic defense, escorting frightened people ––some couples, some on their own–– past screaming, self-righteous bands who called themselves Christians. Groups of us also traveled to clinics that were greater flash points, with larger mobs, and stood up to people holding fetus signs and Bibles, faces screwed up, practically spitting out their anger.

In the early 2000s, I organized sitting meditation in front of the Planned Parenthood in San Francisco while yet another round of abortion opponents were doing a prayer action of “40 Days for Life” across the street.

I’ve done these things because women’s lives are sacred. Non-binary lives are sacred. Trans-men who are pregnant? Their lives are sacred, too.

My life? It is also sacred. As sacred as yours.

I’m a non-binary person, assigned female at birth. Forever queer ––in both gender and sexuality–– I’m happy with pretty much any pronouns, though I mostly go by she or they.

And I am not (just) pro-choice.

I had one abortion in my 20s. A condom broke. It happens. The abortion wasn’t easy. It was necessary. I vowed to never have to go through one again.

That abortion also saved my life. Not my immediate physical life, but it saved my life nonetheless, enabling me to work toward the life I have now, one which (I hope) contributes and gives back. That abortion also saved the life of whatever child that fetus would have turned into. It saved that being from a life of poverty and difficulty. It saved that child from a parent who didn’t want it and who still needed years to work through the abuse from her own childhood.

Sometimes, in order to truly support life, we must make room for something new to grow. Sometimes, in order to truly support life, we must find ways to nurture the well-being of the children and adults already living, who struggle with self-acceptance, or poverty, or live in the throes of war, or under the effects of the slow-rolling disaster that is climate change.

Sometimes, in order to support life, we must figure out exactly what choices we will make to better work toward justice. To create. To serve. To live.

***

I am not (just) pro-choice.

I am pro-abortion.

The right to safe abortion is consistently at risk in the United States and in many other countries around the world. It is put at risk most often by those who want to control women’s bodies.* It is put at risk by those who expect parents to work three jobs to feed their children, and who cut off medical care and access to education. Safe abortion is consistently put at risk by those who support police gunning people down in the streets or locking them in cages. It is put at risk by those who pollute our air and water and endanger worker’s lives in the name of profit. Safe abortion is consistently put at risk by those who deny asylum seekers safe harbor, and by those who send people off to endless wars.

And yet they have the temerity to call themselves “pro-life.”

***

I am not (just) pro-choice.

I am pro-abortion.

I am pro-abortion early term. I am pro-abortion in the middle of a pregnancy. I am pro-abortion late term. Those people who think someone in late term pregnancy wants to terminate for any but the most serious reasons? They have to be deluded. Abortion is not a walk in the park, even early term. Like everything, it costs. For many of us, it just costs much less than carrying a pregnancy to term.

I am pro-abortion because a parent’s life is worth more to me than the life of a zygote or a fetus. I am pro-abortion because, in my religion, death and life walk hand in hand, as part of one great cycle. Death and life are inextricably intertwined. To deny a person’s power over the workings of their own body is to deny the right to foster life itself. Fostering life comes in many forms.

We are not chattel. We are not property. We are women, men, and humans who are willing to face the hard choices of adulthood. Rites of passage. Sometimes the patch of carrots must be thinned for other things to grow strong and healthy. Sometimes the fire moves through the forest, so the pines can release seeds.

I have grown so many things with my life, yet anti-abortionists would tell me, “not enough.” As one sister wrote to me at the time, “You’ve killed one of my nieces or nephews.” As though my family doesn’t have enough children and grandchildren. As though tipping the scales at 7 billion people and counting is not enough.**

I honor the cycles of life. I honor the cycles of death. I honor my power, as a witch, to hold out a hand to both. I clasp those hands, bringing life and death together.

One cannot work for the liberation of all beings if one isn’t willing to sacrifice.

To sacrifice is to claim power. It is an offering. The blood pours upon the altar from the calf. The incense rises. The fruits of the land are given. I offered the temporary joining of my body with another’s, that brief coming together of cells…I offered up my pain. I offered these for the promise of a life of creativity and service.

I’m still living up to that promise.

In closing one door to whatever that zygote may have one day become, I myself became something. And I’ve done the best I can to support others in becoming, too. That’s all that we can do with our lives, isn’t it? To help one another?

Thank you Roe, even though by now you’ve changed your mind. I honor your sacrifice, too. I know it wasn’t easy. Life isn’t easy.

But life, if we make room for it, can be filled with strength and joy.

————

* I recognize that genderqueer, non-binary people, and trans men can also become pregnant. I’m one of those people and I’ve tried to include that in as much of this essay as possible. The control of both cis and trans women’s bodies is most often up for legislation, which is why I use the phrase “women’s bodies” here.

**Do not think I lay the blame on climate disaster on people having children, particularly poor people. Climate disaster is something I lay firmly at the feet of the mega-polluters and resource eaters, most of whom are multi-national corporations run by billionaires.

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NOTE: an earlier version of this essay was first published in 2014. This version is from 2018.

This is reader funded writing. I thank all of my Patreon supporters for making it possible for me to provide one free essay and short story every month. Most of this writing would not exist without these people. They all rock.

Want to join my Patreon crew? You get advance copies of essays and stories before they hit the web, plus a chance for free books once or so a year. 

#abortion

A Great Review!

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Cannot wait for the next book!

Read the rest of this great review at Patheos.

#bookreviews