Note: This is the first Occupy poem I felt good enough to share. More are coming. Enjoy!
This marginalized American body
is a descendent of multiple rebellions.
colonists throwing chests
of tea overboard on a cold Boston
night in November.
women who realized that the baring
the next generation of Americans
should give them double say
in the country’s future, not none,
and went to jail for the basic right
to cast a ballot.
the year long bus boycott in Montgomery
after they arrested Rosa Parks
for deciding she simply wasn’t
going to surrender
her seat another time
to another white man.
the spirit of NYC drag queens and queers
who saw cops once more
invading the only safe space they had,
a little bar on Christopher Street
on the last Saturday in June
in the summer of ‘69
as the final straw
and opted to rebel rather than surrender.
a too little known occupation
in San Francisco in 1977
in which people with disabilities,
some of whom risked their very lives by participating,
occupied an Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare’s
in San Francisco for 26 days, the longest siege of a federal office
in the nation’s history, which resulted in the signing of Section 504,
a law I still depend on daily.
I am occupying
so when future generations
need someone to invoke
they will have Occupy Wall Street,
Occupy Springfield, and Occupy Together