82/365

each night i look to kaveh akbar poems
for a dash of inspiration. perhaps i too can allude
to pistachios and saffron in an effort to appear
more exotic than i’ve ever felt.  sprinkle a hint
of piquancy by shuffling names like
shahnameh, ferdowsi, rustum, hafez
into my verse like a clumsy chef unaware
of the power his spices wield. hard to believe
that’s all they wanted, those hoards
of bored white marauders, crashing
into the world with their glib flimsily
civilizations. trying to save the rest of us
from our true human natures:
worshiping fire and the sun instead
of a prude old man and his broken son.

i teach my students about:
colonization
racism
dominant culture
assimilation
identity
 
they seek understanding and
a path toward equality,
but i hope they’re awakened
in the spaces between justice and vengeance.

anger is a gift
the song says.
one that’s no longer fit for me,
but that i hope to pass on.