Even White Folks Get the Blues
I am disabled, immobile, and broke. It frustrates, embarrasses and most of the time it pisses me off. But it does gain me entrance (in good or bad standing) to a minority community, albeit a largely unseen one. But aren’t they all too invisible from those powers on the hills?
The voiceless and the silent.
The children, the sick, the infirm, the poor and the hopeless. You know, those who read the Statue of Liberty’s words in New York harbor from the sea. Those chasing our dreams. Those in government shelter. Derision. detention.
But at last I am labeled catastrophe, and may be excused for occasionally squeaking out. I’ve always been prone to coddling a brooding constant discontent. And always been prone to speak for the meek.
2/21/06
