IT FEELS FAKE

When someone dies I do not

Offer a note of care, because

The loss is so great that words

On paper feel like an insult.

 

And there’s the problem of who to

Send it to? Wife, mother or child?

I feel like I should

Send it to me because I care.

 

Losing someone to another dimension

Leaves me speechless.  “Where  are they,”

The child in me frets, unable to

Send a drop of water to the fire..

 

When you die you’ll never get a

card from me. Who needs it the most?

And how pitiful the proper

response from me would be?

 

I know I don’t play by the rules.

Either cruelly I cannot be bothered

Or I care too much.

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I know, I know: Knowing that someone departed is missed and remembered should make the chief loser feel better, but that’s so miniscule, and depending upon their style of mourning, it may throw them back into despair.  Am I just making excuses or do I doubt my own ability to express what I mean?

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REPARATIONS FOR SLAVERY?

New York is considering creating a commission to consider  reparations for the lingering negative effects of slavery.  How could I be against that? Doesn’t reparation for the misdeeds of our ancestors take away time and money from current  injustices to the slaves’ offspring?  But hush….don’t whisper that in front of the children….in public schools, or at universities in some states. My public access television dried up on the vine, but hopefully A.I. hasn’t invaded my Word Press blog yet.

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GUESS WHAT!  GOOD NEWS!

The Supreme Court just ruled  in support of parts of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 against the State of Alabama.  Guess what!  Clarence Thomas strongly dissented.  Someone needs to clarify the double-think being used today to turn words and meanings inside out.