Regarding the following offering, the poet will only say that she finds herself, after a long life of loving, selfless and quite often unsung service, saddled with a public profile which, false from beginning to end as it is, puts her, at least, in some very distinguished historical company.

*****

Recorded Reading (3:08): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/wjea7ifxjunrmlht87dh0/To-Posterity.mp3?rlkey=f42sgzknvdyi900h1npkz1zg9&dl=0

*****

To Posterity

This is the price of greatness, much I fear
Exacted especially women from,
From Cleopatra through M. Antoinette,
In public eyes made monsters to become

They painted Zora Neal in that same tone —
Each one abusers of her children were
Supposed to be — though act’ual history
Quite alternate conclusions doth infer

Lucrecia Borgia? Nothing but a pawn
The machinations of her fam’ly for;
Posterity sees fit heap coals upon
Her head — to hate a viper it prefer

This is the price for having early set
Mine eyes upon that lofty distant star
To which our consciousnesses must evolve,
At th’expense of staying where we are:

Amid the filth of base self-interest
Which benefit of true love seldom see
But much more often venomous debate
O’er each existence hovering there be

Devoid of understanding of all but
A shrew-like scramble for the next good bite,
The most degraded forms of loveless smut,
The next selfish, transitory delight

No wonder they cannot well judge of me
Who can in no wise ever e’en agree
Upon th’existence of one selfless act
Without invoking reciprocity,

Thus redefining it selfishness as! —
I live my life by standards they cannot
Perceive at all, consenting naught to sell,
By which same token I cannot be bought

Woman of mystery must be to them —
One who would untold hardships quiet meet
So when again another’s path might cross
May with a good clear conscience then they greet —

Unfathomable, and most probably,
Since contrary to prudency appear,
Insane as well, sith do not care to hold
Mine interests in exclusivity,

Rather than, as reflexively I do,
Combine them with the greater int’rests of
Whatever All I there contribute to
And make decisions from that place of love

I ask inquirers of posterity
Recall the evil damage tongues can do
Remember when they took your everything
And all of your support away from you

If theirs had been the record hist’ry kept
On which all present then would — false — agree…?
Please dig a little deeper! Find the truth
In every line of heart’s blood poetry

*****

This poet presently lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level.

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