His name is Freedom but he prefers to be announced as We, Us. He or Him. Please don’t refer to him as them, they or those.

He cannot pale any bluer in the face. For centuries no one has told him what to do. His stained glass eyes pull Us closer to the divine.

They don’t know if he breathes through nose or gills. We know that his priorities are bills.

I would love to snap on his powdered wig and black robe. I’d shrink to gavel size and hide with all the other tricks up his sleeve, sopping up genetic sweat with my moppy hair.

His name is uncle, the verb, used as a cry or surrender of defeat. His name is freedom but he prefers to be announced as We, US, He, or Him.

His priorities are bills. Government name Clarence sitting in the judiciary seat.
I wonder if he still pushes pills the way that he’s bulldozing femininity.

He has the power and right to act, speak and think as he wants.
We are in the state of being free within society from oppressive restrictions imposed by authority.

2 thoughts on “He

  1. A powerful and beautifully crafted poem of great depths. It’s a joy reading this…

    ‘His stained glass eyes pull
    Us closer to the divine’.

    The elasticity of language and the freedom of thought are intertwined in this poem to create new meanings for the reader.

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