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State of the Union

.

People say I’m an empath

but I must not be

a very good one, because

I can’t fit your mindset

into my brain, can’t feel

your world at all. I’d put

fistfuls of Andrew Jacksons

down on my outsider’s

perspective of you (so many

lightbulbs last night!), but

that’s not the same thing

as trying on your eyes,

your heart – not even close.

.

You’re a bro. That was my

main lightbulb, watching you.

You were once a football star.

You are affable, extroverted,

and not as smart as we wish

you were. Per the internet,

I called all these things correctly,

and for me, they make you

most likely not a monster.

.

If I were a better empath,

I could slip into your

letterman jacket (Go Auks!),

see 30,000 dead, and

understand why the score

is still not settled.

See two million starving

and feel I’ve done my part

by dropping an MRE

for every twentieth person.

See the tanking polls

at home, the old nightmare

gassing up for another lap,

and get why it’s best

to refuse to be changed.

.

But I can’t get inside,

and am left with only

the pattest, saddest lightbulb

on why you, a presumed

non-monster, keeps doing

monstrous things:

Bros are no

good at math.

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But you're such a good empath for TRYING to fit inside his brain! This is such a beautiful, sad, reflective, thought-provoking, image-rich poem.

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This is splendid, Rebekah! You are empathetic, and my sense is that this empathy has a 360 degree scope, and moves through understanding and compassion and leads you back to the place of outrage and a movement towards wholeness and healing and a ceasing of the fury, fire and anniliation. One of the things we can hope for is reaching the leaders who do have heart and compassion, and helping them find their way back to their best natures. I am very grateful for you and your actvism on this and other issues.

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