Name That Fire

was I being

uppity?

might that be the source

of animus

in a jailer woman

who inhales internalized

sexism

haughty with skinny latte aroma

exhaling scorn from the lifted bridge

of her upturned nose?

yessir! that is why

I abhor canned characterizations

labeling woman

\manipulative, dramatic, triflin’\

who we vanquish

and discard.

it would not be

that I speak

of the inequities I see.

if I am uppity

from what properly

lowered place

do I dare

rise?

 

I am fiery

you say.

an assessment lit

in my challenge

to your read

simply because you hold

all the cards.

true, I refuse to defer

to authority

over logic

to might

over right

I stand firm in my quaking boots

as I climb from the trench

\silenced no more\

fan the flames

of my insubordination

drink in the mist

of grudging admiration

from slaves to status quo

while I burn it

to the ground

Inferno

your world is ablaze

 

you guarded those smoldering coals

\steaming hurts and smoking resentments\

convinced yourself

you were the watchman

lest a conflagration rise.

 

you stood in the gusts

\intrusions and degradations\

eyes shuttered

as if stinging sparks

were of no concern.

 

you felt the bonfire billow

\swallowed bile now volcanic\

while Hestia whispered

power surge sweet nothings

that brought your blood to boil.

 

you exhaled as a dragon

\savored the bite of rage\

dripped fuel from mangled fingers

threw that Molotov

just to watch it burn.