THE MASK THAT WASN’T THE 50’s

The veneer that was the 50’s

Cracked open, broke decent pretense

A massive cultural mythology

Imposed by retired military-industrial-congressional complex

Reasons for the mask that suburbs looked like

Took a generation of activists to unmask

And uprise against the subordination of the feminine mystique

White-washed and express racial exclusion

From proximity, opportunity, drinking fountains

Pulling the covers off infidelity

Drunken suburban neighborhood house parties

Off-stage of Ozzie and Harriet and Donna Reed

Woodstock didn’t so much liberate

As unmask, dismantle dissemblance, crack the veneer

That wasn’t the 50’s

IF YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE

To answer my question

An Indigenous teacher

Once told me

If you know who you are

You will never be lonely

I didn’t understand

 

White, I grew up

In bland, blanched suburbia

Moved to

A small, rural town

We people were the entertainment

The gravitas

Friends

Porch sitting hours

Moved to

A hip, slick, cultured, sophisticated, city of universities

America’s Athens

Loneliness, assimilation, knowledge, alienation from self

Moved to

A wealthy, beach retirement town

Boredom, self-discovery, self-recovery

Toured foreign countries

Europe and the roots of Western Civilization

Meso-America, Maya

Tropical Island

 

I am

Wherever I go

I understand