the body politic

Why did you stand there

on the other side of the old kitchen

(loose tiles between us)

by the flickering sink light, sickly

passive—or worse, actively unmoved—

while I poured the boiled kettle

so confidently past the cup

onto our child’s hand?

Now.

As I was saying.

I am angry because

I am certain

I am right.

Tomorrow’s youth

will thank me

for sticking to my guns.

So how can you ask,

“If you are certain,

why are you angry?”

No. You don’t understand.

Listen. Listen for once:

we hold these truths to be self-evident

and I won’t stop until everyone sees that.

I don’t care who it hurts.

the body politic

by troy cady