So, I didn’t get all of the superwoman stuff done today. I got most of it done, though, and dinner was good and the kids are asleep so I’m calling it for tonight, except for this and reading my Lighthouse for tomorrow. I said I was going to do a poem for the people of Ferguson tonight. I may need more time for that. I’d want it to be good, and after all the hours reading teenage writing has left me feeling like a zombie has supped on my brain. I hope it left at least a little left.
Tonight I’m avoiding the media and thinking about the mothers. I’m thinking about all the mothers of babies who have been killed by law enforcement in America, and about all the times those babies are forgotten, or used for ratings, or turned into criminals on the news. I hope I can do it right.
Dear mothers, we are sorry. We are sorry you had to lose your baby, and we are sorry for the legions of hued children sent heavenward by blinding white might and hatred. We are sorry for your tears, their blood, and our sins. Tonight we apologize for the way our cameras thirsted after the verdict, near to drooling with the thrill, pornographic in their desire to see the bottles thrown and the fires lit. And though some of us are pink, the same pasty pink of your politicians and police, we are mothers too, and we weep with you, we stand with you,
and now we pray for us all.
It’s not right. Not even close. I will have to try again tomorrow. Goodnight, sweet Tuesday dreams.