Archive for the ‘Kind of true’ Category

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On the track

February 22, 2017

There are those, I know, who fought battles and lost for years before now, and who were already tired before the talk of walls and repeal and replace and fake news and bans. There are those who were bone-tired before we ever got to this.

This is no relay race. Entering this track means continuing, no matter how tired our legs, no matter how raw our lungs.

I may not have been here soon enough, but I am here now, and I will stay alongside you who have run on for a long time until I cannot run anymore.

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Police state

February 21, 2017

From the window high above Oakland, I saw helicopters hovering over the part of town where people gathered for the women’s march. Then, I noticed a small plane making a wide turn where the city met the estuary, and I watched it make a low, lazy circle, curving back toward where I stood, then looping back down and around.

Surveillance plane, I told my father after its third go-round.

What do you think they’re looking for? he asked.

Maybe they’re jamming cellphones, I replied. It’s just part of the deal now. We live in a police state.

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Erosion

February 18, 2017

The rain is washing California bare, drawing out the mud that holds up spillways and trees. Why it’s raining? my son asks, and then he answers, Because the clouds are full of water.

So many of my people are inundated, the wash of bad news eroding their strength. We are sodden with worry, making calls with damp fingers, sending postcards into an impenetrably murky swamp.

Will we see the sun again? Will the clouds empty? I have my own questions. I don’t have answers. I am too busy filling sandbags as the rain erodes what’s left of my hope.

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Docile

February 17, 2017

For years, I have seen a man and his schnauzer walking in my neighborhood. Each time I pass them, the schnauzer has been alert, quick-footed, briskly trotting along the curve of the lake.

Yesterday, though, I saw the man sitting at a café, the schnauzer standing, docilely, under the table, staring at nothing, and I wondered, How long does it take to become so tame?

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God bless America

February 16, 2017

We hold these truths to be self-evident, but these facts, these alternative facts, they are nothing but fake news. Do you see this true thing? No, you don’t, because it’s false, and if you think this is confusing, just wait, because the best people, the very best people, are working on something unquestionably counterfeit for you, something so authentically specious you will have nothing to do but stand back and admire just how tremendous it is. You will drop your hateful tone. You will acknowledge the ways in which the deception is bonafide. Stop asking questions. Stop asking. Stop.

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The future dentist

February 15, 2017

Because smiles fascinated him, he always wanted to become a dentist. He traveled to America, ready to learn, ready to greet others with twinkling eyes, the corners of his mouth upturned, and we welcomed him, taught him the inner workings of the jaw.

No, no one smiles. The country he once called home is a drooling mouth decayed by war. The country he calls home today is close behind.

He still has more to learn about teeth, but right now, he just tries to discern what’s next in a country that seems to want to spit him out.

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So very close to midnight

February 9, 2017

Are we running as futilely as ants scattered by hot water? Are we 30 days, 30 hours, 30 minutes from apocalypse? I run a finger over a fissure in my knuckle that could as easily have been caused dry air as by punching a wall. Will it heal? Will it matter?

Fatalism is a quagmire of hopelessness, and yet, on certain nights, I hear the warning sirens in my head, and I wait for the crackle of my own skin. We are so very close to midnight, and it is difficult to imagine the clock turning back.