This is Not a Poem

It just looks like one. Poetry has reached an end like everything else.

This is not a poem. It's just a list of things I've realized in the past year or two:

I was a college educator at the end of higher education.

A full-time educator, at the end of full-time teaching positions.

A writing teacher, at the end of human writing.

Middle class, at the end of the middle class.

A union member at the end of organized labor.

I'm a car guy at the end of combustion engines.

^ That seems trivial.

For a while I was a white guy, at the end of white men. A guy, period, at the end of gender. But now the white men have come roaring back and gender fluidity is banished, so everything should be as awesome as it used to be when white guys were in charge of everything.

^ That’s sarcasm.

I'm a Jesuit at the end of charity, a Buddhist at the end of forebearance, a logician at the end of reason.

An American at the end of Democracy.

An environmentalist, at the end of the world.

This is not a poem. It’s only a list. And since there's no use being polite at the end of civility, I'll admit that I am seriously fucking pissed about being so much on it.

- Fin -