POLITICAL Poem: Love Letter, by Phillip Zapkin

Dear you,

Five beers in
with Soco shots to match,
and you stumble
to the dive bar
karaoke machine
to sing “Strokin’,”
heedless of key or rhythm
for the seventh week in a row.

A transwoman
defending immigrants in court,
and your wife worries
the target on your back couldn’t be bigger,
but you keep writing
articles, press releases,
posts on social media,
writing anywhere to tell people
about human beings
demonized for political gain,
for political games.

The first three souffles
fall in the oven,
with each one
so too falls part of your confidence,
but nevertheless,
you persist,
and nothing
has been as delicious
as the fourth souffle,
standing proud
and triumphant
as you pull it from the oven.

Green hair dye
and magic marker sign
run in the rain
as you stand beside College Avenue
still protesting everything wrong with the world
as car horns voice their
anger or agreement.

Yarn dances across
the end of
your crochet hook
turning a ball of wool
into curtains for a new house,
this stitch experimental,
the first time you’ve tried it,
and with each completed row
you hold out
the ever-growing panel
before a judicial eye
making sure
it meets standards.

Resisting the urge
to call your child every day
and ask if they’ve seen
the news
only heightens your anxiety.
You know they’ve paused watching news,
Because it’s hard enough
being trans in
America
today
without doom scrolling
or binge watching.

I return to poetry
after fifteen years
after a lifetime
because I demand
that the world be beautiful
and I demand of myself
that I do what I can
to make it so.

Dear you,
this poem is
my love letter to you.