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“Out with Your Outrage” by Yvette R. Murray

Out with your outrage, I say.
It is mis-placed.
You who care more for cloth
Than skin.
When the skin that we are in is
You are incensed with nonsense
And do not see that the clock ticks
Away our shared breath and sky.

Out with your outrage, I say,
When you will not give water
To a brother who thirsts
And you will
watch a young sister bleed
As our children disappear into thin air.
All the while baring your smile:
Painted on and eating
Your privilege on toast.

Out with your outrage, I say
For you turn deaf ears to
Screaming headlines of screaming
Men and women and
Boys and girls.
Slaughtered by a diseased system
That was by us but never for us
Yet flavored with our stolen
Drum beat.

Out with your outrage, I say,
It is plastic and does not breathe
The same air that I do.
For my air drips with peace
And although I carry a sword
It is my mind that will destroy you
Fierce calculations and righteous machinations
Condemning your pitch black