Screenshot

I see a screenshot

of the news

in the morning.

I think

it’s fake.

I check it,

it’s real.

.

I show someone else.

As usual

he doesn’t

believe its real.

Even if it was,

he tries to

explain

it

away.

.

~

.

Rationalizing

with no rations,

makes an empty stomach.

.

He says the world is unhappy,

and I should learn that.

.

He says the people

on the news

are from the same area

as terrorists

from four years ago,

as if that act by a few

removes the humanity

of multitudes.

So no visa.

.

He says our government

has a right not to care.

Even though,

this was previously

“condemned.”

Bark, bark, bark

.

When I bring up

domestic incidents

of related nonchalance

he says,

I wasn’t alive

as if I can’t read

the death count.

.

When I say

I intend to march,

he asks what I am

even

protesting.

.

And when I think

about him,

the state news,

and more.

When I think,

he did not know of this

before I brought it up.

When I think that

his words

are the same

echoing around the country

and have been

for generations,

I feel.

I feel.

Sick.

 

 

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