Readjust

The middle finger on the freeway,
red-faced curse behind a shopping cart,
knuckles tensed under the bar.

Disgust, 
the white man’s privilege.

They say illegals hang out
behind the local mercado.
Foreign tongues, rhythmic beats
and musk;
flesh the color of dust.

Distrust,
an immigrant’s privilege.

Poverty is a rising tide
of styrofoam cups,
and as much as I hate them
for filling this place up,
I love them just as much.

The future of our species
requires each of us
to be ourselves, 
but readjust.

9 responses to “Readjust”

John

This poem speaks of racial and political issues facing us today. Nobody has the answer, do they…

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1. K. Hartless
  
  No, we’re all pretty clueless these days. But, even with those opposite me in their beliefs or values, I truly want to understand. And to show my children, by example, the value of honesty.
  
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  1. John
    
    Well said, you are a good mom. ❤️
    
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Tom

Very powerful message here of empathy and compassion well worth repeating – so important to lead by example for the next generation 🙂

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1. K. Hartless
  
  Thank you, Tom. I see so much decisiveness here, but I feel that honesty is the heart of solving any situation.
  
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J M Negi

Very commending indeed. Thanks

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1. K. Hartless
  
  Thank you, J M. It’s hard to write about the “hard” stuff. But, I like to take on those topics and really be brave in expressing what I observe.
  
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Michele Lee

Bravo! A little readjustment would do the greater good some good.

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1. K. Hartless
  
  Thank you, Michele. I agree, and I, too, and willing to readjust and grow in my views. I don’t know when compromise became such a bad word.
  
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