BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS

by Ann E. Wallace

The swift punishment brought down on Zooey Zephyr, a transgender lawmaker in Montana, began over words that others in American politics have used without hesitation or consequence: saying opponents have “blood” on their hands. The governor of Texas. A GOP congressman in Florida. A city councilwoman in Denver. Just in the past few years, they are among the elected officials who have chastised colleagues in government with the same pointed rhetoric almost word for word — accusing them of bearing responsibility for deaths — over everything from immigration policy to gun laws. None faced blowback, let alone retribution. But not Zephyr, who on Thursday began legislative exile after Montana Republicans barred her from the state House floor a week after saying those who voted to support a ban on gender-affirming care would have blood on their hands. —AP, April 27, 2023

This was her warning,

the cost of the ban 

on affirming healthcare 

for trans kids.

 

They would have blood

on their hands,

she said.

 

The words, or her body, labeled 

a breach of decorum,

they removed her,

silenced her voice

with a majority, 68 to 32. 

She may watch,

voiceless, may cast

her singular vote 

out of sight and from afar.

 

Hers is a body they do not want 

to see. And they do not want 

to hear about their own hand 

in doing harm, about the toll 

of bloody-handed legislation 

on kids, or on the adults 

like her who once were kids 

in need of votes and affirmation.

 

They removed her from their sight.

They will wash their hands 

with blood.

And her voice, 

it will grow stronger.

Ann E. Wallace is the Poet Laureate of Jersey City, New Jersey. Follow her on Twitter @annwlace409 or on Instagram @annwallace409.

PENNED IN

by Patricia Davis

"Back to the Grind" by Pia Guerra at The Nib.

A thing half wild
carries a menace
             more complete than
the wild thing itself.
Farmers in Canada
               know this. They imported European wild boars
when the market for the boar meat
was good, several decades
             ago. The wild boars—
a number of
them—escaped
            and have since
mated with pigs.
Pigs are bred for bulk
            and have many more litters
and many more piglets per litter
than boars. Now, roaming northern
            and western Canada,
are colonies of pig-boars, spotted,
like domestic pigs
            and six hundred plus
pounds, with bristles
            and tusks.
To survive the winter, when temperatures
fall to 60 below,
           they make snow
burrows and line them with cattails
they've cut with their teeth.
           Pigloos, they’re called.
Porcine prodigies, they root
           through cultivated fields
like small backhoes.
They eat all that fits in their mouths:
           barley, wheat, small reptiles
and mammals.  They are spreading
           across the border into Montana,
North Dakota, hooved
Sasqueals whose habits have been
           only recently discovered.
This is all true.
There are stranger things than
           the odd killer pandemic.
Pigs, intended for slaughter, escape, mate
           with hirsute strangers from the woods,
build nests of soft weeds
that steam in winter from the heat
          so well made they are; pigs
give it all up—the feeding hour,
the predictable grain
         for freedom.
To die at the right time, not at the hand
of greed; not for the market.
Consider this: maybe
the fence is weak
          and our future is something
other than this, this
          waiting.

Patricia Davis has published poetry in Poet Lore, the Atlanta Review, Smartish Pace, Third Coast, and other journals. She works as a human rights advocate in Washington, DC.

ON HER BEHALF

a found poem
by Mac McClurkan

The sentence handed down in a trial for incest in rural Valley County, Mont., pictured here, has led to a call for the judge in the trial to be impeached. Matthew Brown/AP via NPR, October 20, 2016.

The defendant’s daughter, age 12, did not attend the sentencing hearing. No one testified on her behalf. The presiding judge in Montana cited the lack of direct input from the victim, or an advocate on behalf of the victim. The defendant, who admitted to raping his daughter multiple times, was sentenced to 60 days in jail. Court records show the victim’s mother, who testified he has two sons that still love him and need their father in their lives, walked in on the father raping the child. The victim’s mother’s mother testified the defendant’s children, especially his sons, will be devastated if their dad is no longer a part of their lives. The defendant’s daughter, age 12, did not attend the sentencing hearing. No one testified on her behalf.

Mac McClurkan is a hobby farmer, disc golf enthusiast, and aspiring writer. He lives in rural Michigan with his wife (who is a MUCH better writer), two dogs, and five chickens.