I have a horror
a surfeit of tv dribbles
the images and words
I must look away,
change the channel,
I switch to a story of plotted
murder where the killer
is named and blamed
and hunted and destroyed – and
When I can’t resist glancing again,
the crowds are still
raging in the streets.
A version of this was previously published on another of my blogs – http://joanvinallcox.ca/trump-mania/
I watched all the American election debates and coverage and I am nauseated. The 2nd debate, especially, sparked all kinds of reactions in me. Watching Trump make his (what I knew intellectually were baseless) accusations with his emotional tone so strong, I felt the sick fear that people would buy what he said, just because of the way he said it. I saw him pacing around and looming over Hillary when she was speaking, and recognized two things:
The normality of this kind of male behaviour, and
Why I thought it was normal; I’d seen it and experienced in the workplace for most of my adult life.
I felt sick with fear because I’d recognized Trump’s nastiness and misogyny from my first few media glimpses of him. I’d recognized his body language and the subtext in his words. I felt sick with fear as I watched apparently respectable people continue to support him, apparently blind to who he was. I felt sick with fear as I saw powerful men (and some women) support him. I felt sick with fear when I heard the bus tape because I’d known men with power who spoke about women in a similar way, and they weren’t penalized. I honestly couldn’t tell, during the debate, whether the man I’d despised, since even before the presidential race, was getting away with it, whether the earnest and smart, hard-working woman was going to continue being faulted because, they claimed, she was bad and her own party saw her as bland.
Perhaps it’s a good thing that the American presidential race lasts so long. Perhaps the length has given people the chance to look beyond the boasting and see the dark reality. I hope so. Goodness knows, lots of stories have surfaced about how Trump has stiffed contractors and even the caterer for his third marriage. The whole taxes thing that he’s now trying to spin into business acumen. The racial and religious baiting. The encouragement of violence – what did he mean when he said Hillary’s Secret Service guards should give up their guns?
Perhaps the long drawn out campaign has opened many eyes. I hope and pray! But I am astonished and fearful because so many are blindly supporting his appalling behaviour.
to keep us indoors.
Fluorescent blue light
The autumnal riot of colours begins
to fade and thin, while losses blossom.
The ghosts of neighbours open the doors
of demolished houses.
I move into winter with opening eyes
watching the leaves reveal the tree
that will die and be born again –
forming and fading and forming again.
Inspired, partially, by Trump
Bullies are blind to
they see the tenderhearted
as targets, used
to relieve their sense of angry fear,
to release their fearful anger –
used as their addictive catharsis.
Bullies are blind,
in their spewing of bile,
to the bruises they inflict,
constantly telling themselves stories
to create and increase excuses
for stoking their blind angers.
Bullies are blind to
how they are led;
they swallow concocted poisons
about others they fear would replace them,
about others they hope to destroy –
attacking these targeted others.
Bullies are blinded and fearful.
The crone arrives like an undesired lover
the shape of your body
Like an adolescent girl, you sense
unsought losses, unclear gifts.
You rage and sleep,
There are no fairy tales here,
no promise of princes and beautiful gowns
the crone’s belly
and a different cloak of invisibility.
In The Midst
There’s been an accident
at the intersection
near my parents
and they are overdue.
Their neighbour answers
the phone – a confused stranger
after her stroke –
and speaks of flashing red lights.
Their friend with cancer is hysterical
on the phone
with no one in the house
and no answers.
As I pick up my car
keys to search,
the phone rings:
It is my child’s school; there’s been an accident.