Scribbles & Munch

Today we march.
All of us, here and gone.

You Ancient Souls,
Bones brutalized by
torch and noose and stones and
worse,
Hearts brutalized by a nature
unnatural to a
narrow mind,
Rise Up, Ancestors;
Your long evaporated tears being
now the blood in our hearts:
Today we march.

You Masters of Deception,
Lives
painted in shades
of the perfect white
  - collar
  - wedding
  - picket fence
  - House
your fearful pallor mistaken
for prestige,
Rise Up, Hopeless;
Your long silent tongues
now lead the choir:
Today we march,

You Martyrs of a Cold Country,
Minds and bodies weaponized
in defense of an All American Dream
then rendered sleepless by secrets,
Rise Up, Sacrificed;
what blood you bartered
for only half a freedom,
now strengthens our hands
clasped:
Today we march.

You Slain by Neglected Disease,
a virus mistaken for righteous,
a plague mistaken for justice,
a hospital bed made colder by shoulders
that should have been there for crying on,
Prejudice never killed so cleanly on behalf of it's Parishoners, but
Rise Up, Wronged;
the silence that let death creep into your body
breaks under our rallying cries:
Today we march.

You Battered Spirits,
cut a thousand thousand times by the first, worst
weapon of the human tongue
unmatched by any configuration built of sticks and stones,
tortured by
what thoughtless minds perceive as cuts too small for paper
(because society's gone paperless)
tormented by
the infections those lacerations allow to access
heart and mind and soul,
Rise Up, Enduring;
the thin balm of a promise that it will
Get Better
is now the mortar for the bricks beneath our feet:
Today we march.

Today we march
down the aisle.

Today we prise wide our mouths
to utter oaths
at last older than fear.
Today we make naked our wounds
and bandage them with bands of gold
more powerful than hate.
Today the wedding bells
and the bells of freedom
are finally one and the same.
Today, at last, we march.

- Z.D. Gladstone