How We Face The Gods of Misrule

It is the nerve of us, the verve of us
standing still, holding hands, keeping
the line of us. The mother of us,
loving of us, genderqueer and diverse of us.
The black of us. The enough of all this—
there are enough of us. The we-have-got-to-
do-something-about-this us. The running
out of time and patience of us. The
reading signs, unpacking lies, following
the science and listening to the others of us.
The creative beating heart of us.
The truth matters, caring matters, having-
too-much-is-wrong—we-need-to-look-out-and-
we-need-to-look-after each other of us.
The re-defining what is a man, what is success of us.
The woman-is-more-than-we-have-begun-
to-dream-of-and we’re-not-going-back of us.
The we-don’t-need-to-be-gendered-
and-neutered of us. The appetite for change
but not just for the sake of it us.
Grief and hope and courage of us.
The let’s put an end to their mischief
for the sake of all of us.