Armor

In dishonor (on you, on your family, on your cow) of the Trumpster fire and his fanfare today, here is something I wrote in the wee hours of the morning on November 9. And remember it's easier to disobey an order that's coming from someone you hold in contempt than someone you respect.

Armor

In a country that just chose the open fascist,

Against immigrants, indigenous people, people of color, queer people, disabled people, Muslims, Jews, women,

Many of the above all at once,

(You know, the ones who built whatever greatness America could have laid claim to before)

A Queer Disabled Jew weaves steel rings together,

Preparing their literal armor,

Or their nerdy, LARP-friendly build of the weighted vest.

Take your pick. (It's both.)

Read the rhetoric of action, of movement.

This is a metaphor for protection,

Even more than it's literal.

They (I, this is me, I am the one weaving steel rings while I can't sleep at 3am)

I know full well today's threat is

not a sword or an axe, but guns,

or (tear) gas(lighting) as policies change,

killing slowly with the knowledge that help isn't coming.

Steel rings turn slices into bruises and breaks,

won't stop projectiles,

have no effect on deceptions or laws.

But armor is still armor and it's weight means something.

Yes, this is a metaphor.

It's also something that's happening.