Race

I’m trying to get past hating the life I’m in
though I admit I find it bracing
to race through it with my fists up

It’s been pretty easy of late to get my fight on
It’s all I can do to keep from screaming for violence
as some kind of rapid response solution

which I’m told might feel far better
but be less effective than slowing down
and talking out the various issues and concerns

with sweethearts on the far side of where I’m at
who still keep my well being in their hearts 
or claim they do while doing all that’s in their power

to close down all the nourishing parts of my life
and the essence of this place where I find myself now
is that I’m halfway through a marathon

that should never even have been a sprint
that should never have gotten out of the blocks
and I’m not talking about the politics of the moment

or the previous moment or the one before that
I’m talking way back at the starting blocks when 
after first contact and first settlement and first

Thanksgiving and all the other self-serving myths
of first steps that were in fact kicks and stomps
so I’m beginning to think that all the calls for peace

and love and moderation and patience are in fact
exactly what all the kicker and stompers want 
so in the running of the race they’ve started

they can reach back or over
and with an outstretched arm knock us back
while barely breaking their own deadly strides

so why in the hell am I still listening to those
who believe in loving the enemy even as they kill us
when instead my blood sings the truth that we are

almost to the end of the race so there’s no shame
in wanting to cross that finish line
on my feet and not my knees 

not to mention the fact that I’m not even
trying to win this race I never wanted to run
I just want it over

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About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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