One Citizen
March 12, ’08  

This morning
I stumble to the bathroom
Wash the sleep out of my eyes
And read the news

“We are at War” the papers say
The war is in the café and in the clubs
The war is on the street and in the gutter
It’s war at work and war at home

And every body is one solider to him self alone.

I put on a pretty dress and my worn down cowboy boots
And walk out into the fray

I go sloshing through the snow melt and misstep into a puddle
So I splash and hop and play

At the tea shop, I chat with a friend
He says, “Kill’em with kindness, a beggar told me that today.”
I laugh, and say, “I want them living man, so I’m just gonna beat the shit outta them.
With kindness.”
I sit down, chuckling and write myself a happy story.

And at home tonight,
I crawl into bed and think,
What if it is true, really, really, real true
That this whole fuck’en war is about me and I am the chosen one?

Who am I then, at raw, if everything good about me I ever thought
Is true.
I close my eyes and I try to sleep
But spring has come into the animal Corine like a lion
And my mind has become a storm

I practice the “OM”
I listen
And for a few holy moments I think I hear a low hum
A frequency I’ve never dialed up before.

As quickly as I hear it, it’s gone.
But I can see that monk on jasper in his vivid orange and galoshes
He smiles at me
I can hear the voices of my friends, singing in a circle
They welcome me

I shut the light
And rest my weary body,
Knowing now, how free is true
Knowing now my war is won and sleep will come
Now that I see myself as free

One citizen,
 To myself, alone

 

© 2008 Corine Demas