Dear Russia, I love your big gay Olympics. Camaraderie gets a whole new meaning. I hate your discrimination, but I love these games. I love how I my daughter looks at your athletes and feels strong. I love how she sees the athletes of nations and feels strong. I love how we are using these games to talk about love, and how we know that we all have a long way to go, but we know that we can get there. I love how we celebrate our bodies AND our souls. I love this pride, pride on the global. It’s about time.
Tonight I feel strong. Today I had a moment after an epic wipe-out on the sled, when I thought my daughter was unconscious and when I tried to revive her, she told me to “be quiet, because I’m listening to all the sounds in the train-sound as it passes.” It was especially scary because today was the first day I thought to put a helmet on the kids, and I thought, seriously? Now? But I was being so careful!
Ummmm, I write poem on the daily. She helps me. Art is a fight, we have to push it, and a world stage doesn’t hurt .That’s why I love these Olympic games. I love the theater that allow us to display real tears.
This is from today:
Every second we breathe as nations, with the strong thighs of gold and unity, carries the blessed underdogs,
And the relief is like sunburn.
This art is a fight, and we start over again with every newsfeed. Not like the over and over again beginning after the big war,
but like the daily private skirmishes that show our colors.
This is the restless decade, and we all know how too make it new. The speed skaters wear printed wet suits,
seamless in their flight.
So this is abbreviated. Yeah, I had a whole day to write this, and this is all I could come up with. Happy Saturday, poemers. Oh hey, I wanted to ask you, if you could describe your state in one word, what would it be? I think Idaho would be private.