I dreamed of boats, of a property that I owned, the property that my brother owned, the property that my friend used to own, on a dirt road behind a town that could have been anywhere, on an old road behind the main road that everyone knows, that everyone uses to get to two places that are somewhere, bypassing all of the cool stuff that only the older locals remember. All the lakes, rivers, old drinking spots, beached cars from the 60’s, the hollowed out ice cream truck that looks like it’s been there since the 40’s , the abandoned zoo with the art deco stone carvings to denote which exotic animal was in which cage.
Recognizing racial equality. Like seeing things for what they are is a talent, an achievement, a superhero skill. Like ignorance isn’t the problem, but rather this divine enlightenment is the goal. A lofty fucking goal, and look at how far we’ve come!
There are invisible wolves that chase us, through our whole lives. These are the wolves that raise us. They are our pack. And these are the wolves that will hunt and kill us, howling in mourning while they do so. Of course, my Father doesn’t see it that way. He doesn’t see anything at all. He is going blind.