Reluctance
Jean Hackett
October 14, 2020
At 19 with furrowed brow, lips firmly set
in a do not cross me line, you announce
you’re not going to vote.
Insist politics causes nothing
but arguments, nasty fights.
I won’t disagree.
I’ve seen you
steer conversations away from guns
when friends wax poetic about the gory glory
of blowing away axis deer, songbirds and squirrels
with AK47’s.
Hugged you
when you gave up on your crush who tried to drag
your agnostic ass to a religious retreat
because she couldn’t date someone
who wasn’t right with God.
Joined you
to slither away from Grandma’s table on Thanksgiving
as Uncle Q-Anon blasted your environmentalist brother
with chem trial diatribes about climate change,
afraid he’d shove another family member
head-first into the breakfast room table,
like he did your dad two Christmases ago over abortion.
Politics haven’t been kind to you,
but lots of folks get treated worse.
There’s your middle school girlfriend,
the pretty one with sea green eyes,
pregnant in 11th grade
since the State of Texas proclaimed
birth control for 16 year-olds a sin.
The boy a couple grades ahead of you
who quit community college
after commuting 1 ½ hours each day
each way by bus to campus,
because education and public transit
aren’t American priorities.
The wild child, once part of your crowd,
who quit drugs, got a GED,
but now struggles with bipolar disorder,
unable afford insurance or medication
in a Land of Plenty where health care isn’t a right.
I know you’re disgusted by squawks and squalls, dog whistles
the powerful promote as music to certain ears,
how they raise the volume of rage and conflict
with every twist of the dial. I know
you want to opt out, walk away.
But citizenship isn’t a party you can leave
if you don’t like the DJ’s play list.
Choose to drown out the cacophony
by joining others in harmonious song.
Promote hope and equity.
Vote!
Jean Hackett is a poet, education, and naturalist who lives and writes in San Antonio and the Texas Hill Country. Her most recent work has appeared in journal Voices de la Luna, the ‘zine Words for Birds, the collection of vulture poetry Purifying Wind, the collections of coronavirus poetry No Season for Silence, Tejascovido, and The Langdon Review. In addition, she’s had poems appear in in the San Antonio Express News/ Houston Chronicle, ArtsAliveSA, and on San Antonio’s VIA buses as part of National Poetry month in 2020.