For a time like this.

I have just realized that the stakes are myself
I have no other
ransom money, nothing to break or barter but my life
my spirit measured out, in bits, spread over
the roulette table, I recoup what I can
nothing else to shove under the nose of the maître de jeu
nothing to thrust out the window, to make the play with
this immediate head, what it comes up with, my move
as we slither over this go board, stepping always
(we hope) between the lines

Diane di Prima
Revolutionary Letter #1

Between the sudden rain, my impending first day as an electrical apprentice at dawn tomorrow, and a collective meeting that left me feeling hurt and tired and wondering how the hell it is that people cannot see that they have a stake in making change, that inclusion is only “for” the “othered” as much as we also make it about us and our need for meaningful engagement… Okay, run on sentence, blech, shouldn’t be blogging.  Instead I’ll just throw the above poem at you, because it is my favourite piece for a time like this, and going to bed.

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