We Rise

By Kat Terban

The Thursday that should have been

Thanksgiving became a visceral dash

to rekindle the torch of Liberty. We

did not go quietly. We danced in the streets

on the political graves of the ones who

wanted us to lay down and die to line

their pockets and protect their secrets.

 

We melted down ill-wrought bronze

men, tore them from the ground, painted

over their collective pedestals with Freedom’s

words. We did not go quietly. We shoved

shoulders together, toppled the violent

machinations of the ones who wanted us

to cry in fear and submit to terror.

 

We blew back the gas they tried to choke

us with on nights we walked masked

shouting our demand to be treated

as human beings, Equal and worthy

regardless of circumstance. We did not

go quietly. We fed each other words

that sparked action and linked arms

protecting who and what we hold most dear.

 

We give thanks to the ones who fed us

and tended our wounds. We give thanks

to the ones who recognized our need to be

seen and regarded as whole persons

deserving better than enslavement and death.

We give thanks to the ones who broke blue lines,

put down their arms and walked away

from corruption to take up signs and outrage.

We give thanks to the ones who stood up

with cameras, who were less-lethally maimed

and battered, and witnessed roiling camouflaged

terrorists barking with uncovered mouths and

uncovered muzzles trying to silence dissent.

 

Do not go quietly. Rise. Say our names.


Author:

Kat Terban (they/them) watches cheesy movies with friends, likes to play with their words, and invites fantastical creatures to solve mysteries and drink tea. They live atop a hill, in a land of moss, clover, and roses, where songbirds greet them every morning and cats purr them to sleep every night. Follow them on Twitter @semiotic_pirate.


This piece is a part of DISTANCED 3.0.

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