Today I met someone not unlike myself in many ways. Twenty-something, college educated, reasonable New Hampshire upbringing, self-deprecating humor.
That, however, is where the likeness stopped. This man spoke of polar ice caps melting, he delivered upon an a discussion with words such as, bigotry, hatred and lack-less adulthood.
Though I claim dyslexia as the heaven’s punishment on me, along with many other things.
This young many agreed with his learning disability, embraced it and used it to his advantage.
Not narrow of mind but straight by heart, I heard courage ring out in his continuous search for knowledge. Homophobia, he stated, is not a state of mind, it is a state of unrest from within.
Hatred of unknown origin was and is our biggest human downfall. For with it, none but ourselves can be imprisoned. We incarcerate via environment and a gutless unwillingness to change.
I wanted to grasp every word out of the air and embrace it. For, the other side of the coin, is mine.
Ignorance, bigotry and disdain. Sloth, impunity and infinite indifference is the stepping stone to helping others with skills I do not possess.
For just that one moment, between Ambien, Trazodone and a boatload of other mind altering drugs, the need to get off my ass and really mean what I say, hit me like a down east wind from a shit factory.
As with most vacant spaces, though, the winds came to quick for my uncoordinated grasp and I let go of the thought.
I just smiled at the young man and said, ‘Would you like to sign our petition to free homing pigeons?’
Lost in the moment but back to dumb and dumb-founded.
I am a backseat driver from America
They drive to the left on Falls Road
The man at the wheel’s name is Seamus
We pass a child on the corner he knows
And Seamus says, “Now, what chance has that
And I say from the back, “I don’t know.”
He says, “There’s barbed wire at all of these exits
And there ain’t no place in Belfast for that kid
It’s a hard life
It’s a hard life
It’s a very hard life
It’s a hard life wherever you go
If we poison our children with hatred
Then, the hard life is all that they’ll know
And there ain’t no place in (Belfast) for
These kids to go
A cafeteria line in Chicago
The fat man in front of me
Is calling black people trash to his children
He’s the only trash here I see
And I’m thinking this man wears a white hood
In the night when his children should sleep
But, they slip to their window and they see him
And they think that white hood’s all they need
I was a child in the sixties
Dreams could be held through TV
With Disney, and Cronkite, and Martin Luther
Oh, I believed, I believed, I believed
Now, I am the backseat driver from America
I am not at the wheel of control
I am guilty, I am war, I am the root of all evil
Lord, and I can’t drive on the left side of the road