What are tears?
We all carry the ocean within us,
Salt and minerals and water.
Perhaps crying,
Be it joyous or grieving,
Signals the desire to return
To this primordial state.
A wish, unspoken, even unconscious,
To be as we began.
May you know you are home
And be at ease.
The rains have arrived,
Remnants of the hurricane.
If I go outside and lift my face,
Will I taste the salt tang of gulf waters,
Hear the faint sound of Parlez Nous A Boire drift on the wind,
Catch the tantalizing scent of my father’s gumbo?
Or will I find the salt of tears cried by all who’ve lost,
Hear the shriek of a roof as it is torn away,
And smell the smoke from fires that cannot be quenched?
Nostalgia is easy for me,
For I am in the mountains and far from this devastation.
I am geographically lucky at the moment.
This grief twists around me,
A primordial root connected to the fundamental wailing
Pulled from the the soul of the earth.
My tears are the salt of the sea and the stream of the rain;
They are water itself and life-
Bitter and burning and flow.
I scream so loud it swallows the universe.
My laments echo down time’s corridors
Like fell black-winged horses running a doomed apocalyptic race.
My words are forever etched on the very pillars of creation itself.
I am done.
When Trump (#NotMyPresident) was elected, I cried. They were NOT tears of joy, believe you me. Little did I know that those tears were merely a bitter, bitter presage of the many tears to follow. From having a President who never reduced me to crying or incoherency, save for a tear here and there of pride in him as he represented us so well on the world stage or lit the WH in rainbow colors when Marriage Equality finally became law of the land, I now have a POTUS who with depressing regularity brings me to fits of actual crying. (And I STILL can’t listen to Le Tigre’s “I’m With Her” w/o breaking down.) His tweets can make me gnash my teeth, to the point that my dentist is concerned. And don’t even get me started on what my psychiatrist thinks, lol. I pointed out that NO-ONE makes meds strong enough to deal with a Trump presidency. He laughed and suggested perhaps I should start a support group. He was joking. But I’m seriously considering it. People (like me) who are now marginalized by Spanky and his gang can use all the help they can get.
When I heard Trump’s latest, the “shithole countries” remark, I cried yet again. Let me say that before Trump, that last time I had cried was when my last beloved guinea pig died…over TEN years ago. I don’t cry easily. I deal with things and go on. But this man….Here’s why I cried at the “shithole countries” remark:
First, from just the continuing SHOCK that a sitting PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA would make such a remark. Two, the contrast was immediate to his predecessor. Obama had great empathy and compassion. I highly doubt Trump ever even tweeted the word “empathy,” let alone experienced it. And I won’t even go into the matters of style and class. Utterly no comparision possible there. Three, I felt such despair at the complete callousness that this displayed towards those from these countries.
I really endeavor not to hate anyone. I think it a waste of time and energy. But Trump is making me rethink this policy. I’m begining to hate him personally, viscerally, and with vituperation. I dislike what he’s doing to the country but I dislike what he’s doing to me as a person. I’m now: angry; anxious; fearful; tearful; and depressed. MAGA, indeed! Snort!