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I had quite a productive morning as far as writing poems this morning, squeezed out 4 short ones shortly after waking up, and when I  phrase it like that it makes it sound like bowel movements, which is not my  intention at all.  Each poem is a thought directly from my own head, it’s like with the pensieve, when Dumbledore holds the wand up to his head and voila, a memory is stored.  Some people do this with photography, and I generally enjoy looking at pictures, but I’m a bit slack about taking them, and my kids don’t want me taking pictures of  them and  certainly not sharing them on Facebook, but this is my method, except it’s a record of  thoughts and ideas rather than so much where I was and what I was wearing.

There was one that I  thought was  kind of innocuous and mildly humorous, but one person  didn’t think so.  Here’s the poem:
What every poor, white person sees
is that white privilege has its degrees

I suppose it could be read a couple of different ways, like maybe I’m talking about college degrees, and how they’re needed to get by, but no, I meant that some people have more privileges than others, that a white person working at a blue collar job, or unemployed, does not have the same amount of privilege as a white person who has a million dollars, which I did not expect to be a controversial position, but the next thing you know, there’s a comment in the thread saying “Fuck off.”

I guess maybe she thought I  was being racially flippant, like it’s only my white privilege which would  allow me to write a poem like that.  Anyway, you can’t please everybody, they say, so I guess my  goal in future is to try and please everybody but Dana St. Mary.

Wish me luck.

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