Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Barbara E. Young: Pain

Why

am I not raging?

Why aren’t we all?

All so flaming angry

we burn our shoes. Heaps of shoes 

should burn

at intersections,

and when the flames begin to flag

why are we not angry enough

to feed the fire with bread

and cans of tuna in oil.

Feed the conflagration

olive oil and coffee

and Ikea shelving units.

We have broken the camel

with all of our straws:

why are we not

all rage, skinless 

boneless, dripping.

Why doesn’t it hurt so 

that we slit 

our dogs’ throats

and our cats’. Throw

beloved carcasses on the pyre,

park our Toyotas around it

and Transport Vans

and open their doors to spill

Jane Austen, treasured photos,

footballs, our grandmothers’ 

watches each 

with two 

diamond chips, spill ourselves

into the consumption.


Copyright Barbara E. Young. From Heirloom Language by Barbara E. Young (Madville, 2021)

Barbara E. Young, her husband Jim and their two cats live in White Bluff, Tennessee, near Nashville. 

image: Mirror

3 comments on “Barbara E. Young: Pain

  1. Patricia A. Nugent
    August 9, 2021

    I agree (all but slitting the dogs’ throats and book burning). And I am raging – but find it hard to find a productive application to turn this mess around. I often wonder why aren’t we carrying pitchforks and torches in the streets? I should wonder, “Why don’t I?” I did raise my fist at a community event recently where America the Beautiful was sung….scary but that small act of defiance felt great afterward.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Barbara Huntington
    August 9, 2021

    Yep.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Rose Mary Boehm
    August 9, 2021

    Yeeeessss!

    Liked by 1 person

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This entry was posted on August 9, 2021 by in Poetry, Social Justice and tagged , , .

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