pelusia / by Megan Hollingsworth

His eyes said,

don't even.

You are clueless

lady white

with flowers on.


Pelusia, written 9.26.2016, recalls an encounter July 2016 with a young black man, aged perhaps 15 years, on Golden Gate Transit between Cotati and San Francisco. Our eyes met three times as I boarded. He was seated immediately behind the bus driver. Read this report, with race and ethnicity graphic, from around that time on killings by police in United States during the first half of 2016. 

I want to acknowledge the general fatigue in the air. Hubris rooted in toxic shame and the consequences of hubris enacted are most challenging to deflect and more so to transmute through the process of self-reflection and detoxification. Since it's unreasonable to list here all the violations of trust, I offer this poem.

The scary, grotesque thoughts spoken and lived out in plain sight are far from new. And others are, as always, as scary and grotesque as I choose to see or not see them and myself.

I become the lesser person as soon as I consider myself the greater person.

Please listen to Dr. A. Breeze Harper on White Fragility - March 2016, Interspecies & Intersectional Justice Conference, Whidbey Institute.

See also BARE