I paddle through the lines and words,
my tiny ripples notwithstanding
while rocks and rapids pitch and toss
and whirling eddies must be crossed.
How sad it is we can’t agree:
with such strong biases inferred
you stir the anger constantly
sharing things I can’t condone
this course is yours, and yours alone–
and I have no long-term desire
to add fuel to your dumpster fire.
I set my stroke through lines and words.
and I refuse to be drawn in…
I won’t drown in your angry seas.
Can’t you grasp the widening rift
that grows from such conspiracies?
How sad that you don’t see the cost
and all the credibility you’ve lost.
© Ginny Brannan 2012