The World Spins
by Rebecca Sadun

We knew the world was backwards
and forwards,
that each step could be a retreat, a regress.
So each step was at best
a best guess.
How queer it felt to know
that our actions mattered
today and tomorrow, too—.
Each actor held the weight of the world,
and yet carried no weight at’all.

To contain our queer anxiety
We would spin and weave:
to our selves and to our people.
We would spin and weave—
faithful to faith alone.
Heads high, voices strong,
we proclaim: “We know. We see.
Forwards! Forwards!”
And then we would make our world
a little more backwards.
When with luck, we did no more.

Some boisterously strove for wisdom,
but Wisdom was scared and hid.
Some sighed and heaved their hearts:
oh a labor, but never was it won of love.

And all who let themselves
look in from afar—
all who looked into the mirror
to see the world dancing, flickering, bleeding
behind their broad stances—
they knew not whether to laugh or to cry.
Harder, came the answer. Harder we must try.

Fingers tightly crossed
for the Lesser of Evils
for the Glories of Kingdom Come
for posterity and for slumber in sheets of truth.
Lurching forward, scuttling back.
Choking down the pieces that will never fit.
To go on fighting forwards
we must dress up the worst
we must offer up our best
and we must hope, at the very least,
for hope.