April 6, 2025

Cameron Awkward-Rich struck a nerve...

Yesterday's protest was a good reminder that we are not alone, and that hope can be wielded, along with anger and community, to create change. Hope is often buried under despair, however, making it necessary to dig through the filth of the latter to mine the former; sometimes finding the courage to do this is difficult, and I end up just hating hope instead.

This poem is from Dispatch. Copyright © 2019 by Cameron Awkward-Rich.

Meditations in an Emergency

I wake up & it breaks my heart. I draw the blinds & the thrill of rain breaks my heart. I go outside. I ride the train, walk among the buildings, men in Monday suits. The flight of doves, the city of tents beneath the underpass, the huddled mass, old women hawking roses, & children all of them, break my heart. There’s a dream I have in which I love the world. I run from end to end like fingers through her hair. There are no borders, only wind. Like you, I was born. Like you, I was raised in the institution of dreaming. Hand on my heart. Hand on my stupid heart.