There’s a way to end a conversation,
“I can’t hear you,”
Followed by silence on the telephone…
We talked about the Zinefest
And we talked about the mime troupe
This week end all week end
Friday Saturday Sunday Monday
And about me running into her when we walk,
It getting life-threatening at times.
Clear and good-natured talk
About whatever we want to talk about.
There it is, eleven poems in three days and
I am incomprehensible to my daughter
And my friend says – more poems from white men,
I don’t have time to listen to white men
Talking to themselves
As if they are the only ones
Who have anything to say.
As if they are the ones
Who get things done.
Once in a while you strike a chord which echoes deep. I'm reminded of Pete Seeger's life in music; white men have consciences too.
complex, isn't it?...since there are millions of other white men about which we might say the same: they are men of good conscience...and yet our world is such a mess it seems perhaps wanting to do the right thing cannot be enough. Perhaps.