As you’ve probably gathered over the years, I, like a lot of people, harbor some activist inclinations. Now, I’m not one to go out and protest, at least not unless there’s a tailgating opportunity. What I do is formulate an argument (or rebuttal to another argument), write it up and post it here. On occasion, I’ll write in to the local paper.
I come by this inclination honestly, having learned from my parents, my mom in particular. While she’s also written tons of Letters to the Editor over the years, she doesn’t write a blog. She makes poems instead.
Recently, poets in Pensacola took part in the “100 Thousand Poets for Change” event. No, “Poets for Change” is not a panhandling scheme, although I bet it would be more effective than the usual “hard luck” story. It’s a nationwide series of readings where local poets gather to read their work and inspire positive change. (At least 50 cents worth.)
Mom took to the mic and read her poem, “Gunsmoke.” Given the Deep South locale, I imagine it was a pretty tough sell, but it seemed to go over well. I’m guessing she had a wooden spoon in her back pocket. No one crosses a lil Italian mother with a wooden spoon.
The best part of the event is that they filmed all the readers and posted the videos on YouTube, so that people like me, who live 5 states away, can see the readings. And it gives me the opportunity to relay it for you, wherever you are.
So with that, may I present, MC Lil Mother!
I don’t know how she arranged for the bells to toll at the end. Age and treachery, I suppose.
To me, the only thing missing would be for her to drop the mic at the end, and shuffle off the stage.