To Those From Whom I Exist Banished — America’s Entitled

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An examination of the sources of this poet’s currently homeless condition)


You are right to reject me —
I am not one of you
Won’t sacrifice conviction
Convenience unto

Won’t lie, like you, statistically,
Thirty times an hour,
Will not erect hegemonies
Of small personal power

Won’t fake a single gesture
Or accept your disrespect
Hoping I might benefit
From my humiliation get

Won’t kiss the knees of pundits
In groupthink currently
The arbiters of everything
Under heaven be

Won’t reduce to slogans
What deserves more thought —
Toe this line or toe that line
Whichever one you think I ought

Won’t do my hair just like your own
Won’t dress in this year’s fashion
Refuse to sacrifice
My authenticity of passion,

Conduct my business crookedly,
Won’t pretend to your belief
Thinking by my falseness
To obtain relief

From falseness and more falseness
All around me see —
I understand your problem
With accepting me

Inhabit you your shelters
Filled with toxicity
Which rightly do you fear
These clear wise eyes will clearly see

And what to you is even worse:
Forgive, forgive, forgive —
Deny me any legal shelter
In which I can safely live

You’re absolutely right,
Though otherwise I might prefer,
To push me out to live and die
On your perimeter

The poet/editor of this website is physically disabled, and lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. Contributions may be made at:

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Ana Daksina

About the Author: Ana Daksina

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