EVIE GROCH

★ ★ ★ ★

POETRY

Image by Olenka Kotyk

Truth or Dare

I wanted the truth to be beautiful and noble,
draped in white and carry a torch.
Instead I found her naked, bald, and barefoot,
pouring out of the tap under no pressure,
unfiltered, raw, unrefined.
I expected a drum-roll to announce her entrance
through velvet curtains,
yet found her an undistinguished guest
in the third row.
I pictured her aligned with huddled masses,
suckling babes at her breast,
but found her among the privileged
who seem to afford her more.
I imagined her showing up in court
with strong evidence,
but found she dwells in confessionals
and dance halls where she steps on toes,
and on reality shows with selected bites.
She is outed, but cannot be
warmed over or denied.
I dreamt of her fueling the nation,
roaring with conviction,
stoking the smoking engines
of logic and sanity.

Yet she sits cross-legged with ears plugged
by too much pleading,
eyes shut from too much color,
speechless to respond to what’s self-evident.
She is unhurried and inconvenient.
Her first name is not gospel.
She’s not what should be,
but what is.
Accept her or not,
she stands.
Amen.