Freedom

I talk to the students in jail about freedom, how in America
we obsess over it, write it over flags on T-shirts, spread

it around under eagles. It has something to do with guns
and fireworks, Harley-Davidsons, New Hampshire, living free

until you’re dead. I tell the students I think the people
fetishizing freedom don’t mean it. That they really mean

look over here, away from all the slavery
we did, away from all the jail! I tell them they

are the experts, ask them to write what freedom means:
privacy is freedom and if  you feel held back, afraid

to do something, you’re not completely free.   No fear
of  loss. No fear of  hunger, no fear of  pain.   A body

to call my own, a voice driven by my own mind.
The security of a dry, warm place to sleep.   To own

my own time left here.   Being able to hold my son
at night.   Showering in private.   Freedom to me

is having the choice to walk away from a fight. Freedom
a work in progress. Everyday freedom, the real work for us all.

Source: Poetry (February 2021)