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We are not reconciled to the oppressors who whet their howl on our grief.

By Danielle Badra

We are not born to be barons of wealth. We
are soft spoken wordsmiths, not soldiers. We are
not broken by hardship or hate. We are not
reconciled to tyranny, to false truths,

to our bloody tongues. We will spit out
the vitriol we swallowed as kids. To our
oppressors, we will say “wait for us”— well aware of
who we are and what we want to taste.

Whet our teeth against their ragged amendments,
their inherent greed and emptiness. We will
howl at their hollowed-out faces. We will spit
on supremacy till thirst takes our throats.

Our resistance is written without ink. Our
grief is rising.


NOTE: The title and italicized text is a line from Gloria E. Anzaldúa.

Added: Wednesday, February 21, 2018  /  Used with permission.
Danielle Badra

Danielle Badra received her BA in creative writing from Kalamazoo College (2008) and her MFA in Poetry at George Mason University (2017). Her poems have appeared in Outlook Springs, 45th Parallel, The California Journal of Poetics, Bourgeon Online Journal, The Greensboro Review, Bad Pony, Rabbit Catastrophe Press, and Duende (forthcoming). Dialogue with the Dead (Finishing Line Press, 2015) is her first chapbook, a collection of contrapuntal poems in dialogue with her deceased sister. Her manuscript, Child of the Universe, was a finalist for the 2017 Berkshire Prize for Poetry from Tupelo Press.

Other poems by this author