The world is there, at your feet
Take a piece, a chunk
Or the whole thing
But be reverent
That what’s it’s there for
Fear is a phantom
Debilitating and dead weight
Even if it’s bitter
The world is sweet
And all you have until
You unravel it into
Raw clay in your own hands
So shape it, pound it
Make it what it has to be
The same world, the new world
Your body in another land
Hair matted and full of lice
Eyes milky and unfocused
Cheeks chapped and raw
Teeth rotting and yellow
Neck and shoulders with insect bites
Chest sunken
Stomach distended
Hands calloused and black
Genitals with a rash
Legs thin and wobbly
Feet with bleeding sores
Your body in another land
People say, “I’m just one person, what can I do?” The reality is that everything human beings have ever imagined, built, organized or created has been the consequence of one person taking the lead. Each of us has this capacity to act in and on the world in the way we choose and as we are able.
Hymn of the Christian Right
My Jesus saw refugees on the road and ran and closed the gate.
My Jesus met the meek and gave each of them a gun.
My Jesus met the woman in trouble and told her to just get on with it and have the baby.
My Jesus saw the power of white people and became white also.
My Jesus met the poor and told them they should stop being so lazy.
My Jesus wants me to be wealthy and tells me to have an Amazon.com Christmas.
My Jesus can walks on water to chase the immigrants back across the Rio Grande.
Hold out your arms
So I can stack the bodies
Of the dead children in them
How many can you carry
Before you are crushed
Under the awful weight
No, instead, hold out your arms
So I can stack the grief and loss
They weigh more
A legacy stolen
The future with a gaping hole
We thought would be filled with flowers
I didn’t spend more than 40 years being a serious artist just to be weird, quirky, stylish, obscure, edgy or any of that. I spent those years in genuine effort trying to make sense of that piece of the world offered to me by my education and my life experience.
I believe that this work is worthy work, work that deepens the humanity of my art and my own humanity at the same time. This is not a selfish process because any effort by anyone to discover their humanity is a gift to the world.
I believe it is honest to see art and to make art in this way.
All men are not created equal. Inequality starts at conception. After that, it’s all up to us.
Children are built to need love, but adults are not always built to give love. Haven’t you noticed?
The task of older people is not to go quietly and cooperatively into a senior living setting. The task is to assess the wisdom gifted by age and volunteer it, offer it or inflict on young people—even if they don’t always listen at first.
The task of young people is not to accumulate stuff, have fun and practice me-ness. That will come. The task is to know enough to know there is wisdom to be had and to search it out thoughtfully.
