Cloak Drop

If pushback
is resistance
a force leaning up, against
and looking away
is ignorance
disguised as bliss

how can we
avert avoidance
feet standing, fixed
on little platforms, preening
off-balance
posing
between weight shifts

in the early scenes
of falling
we make it seem
like a stepping off
cloak drop, deliberate
crease down, at the edges
a willing relinquishment of form

little towers
crumple in place, behind us
a slow settling
of collapsed space, remains
where we pulled back
from ways upheld
we chose to leave
rather than change
or stay the same

Back of the Page

I’ve been thinking a lot about “Exit, Voice, and Loyalty,” a book by Albert O. Hirschman that I keep in a continually unfinished state of reading. At its core, it offers a way of thinking about our participation in organizations when our experience starts to deteriorate. Do we voice our concern and attempt to change the system or do we exit, silently?

These aren’t absolutes, and come in all shapes and nuanced day-to-day sizes: do I buy that coffee? do I walk or ride or drive or fly? do I call my Congress representative? etc.

In a world where we’re encouraged not to look away, to be active participants for change, we are loyal to the system. We want it to get better for us (and hopefully all members). This applies in concentric and overlapping circles, from our families, communities, all the way to Nations and all living things on Earth (or beyond, if you want it to).

Leaving Earth, although a convenient Billionaire fantasy, is not a great way for us to resolve our problems. So we look for local ways to change, speak up, or exit (withdrawing our time and attention, or money). We can see this when people speak up in protest, or share information. We can also see it with boycotts, withdrawing attention by blocking, volunteering, or acts of self-care resistance like rest or taking a nice walk through the park.

Voicing concerns has risks, however, and often requires us to give something - to put something on the line. We seem to like using our feet to describe this: making a stand, taking a stance, or kicking the can down the road, if we’re not ready. This is especially risky when rules start to take shape that restrict our ability to voice criticisms or restrict our ability to decide where our attention or money go.

This poem was inspired by thinking about this moment as The Pullback. A time when we are all becoming very aware of our participation in systems and looking for ways to exercise our agency. We want to be able to speak critically, have freedom of movement, and make choices where our time, attention, and money flow.

That feeling of Pullback is where this poem started, and here are some of the ways the imagery unfolded:

Let’s start with Pushback.

Right away, I felt a fence line between neighbors.

Posts, dug deep. Boards leaning heavy

on each other, meeting tension.

Exerted force taken and exchanged for more. Like a fight with an actual neighbor.

A lawyer friend of mine once told me: never start a petty fight with your neighbor

because the Police and Legal system can’t really do much. You are neighbors, after all…

Then there’s looking away. A thing we all feel compelled to do now and then.

We can’t possibly contain all of this, or be expected to solve it on our own.

So we find bliss in little moments where we forget the trouble: a smile, the sun, a tree.

But we can only do this for so long.

Like a renaissance painting, where the subject is posing for hours

balanced on that little stool hidden beneath their dress.

Today, we preen on little platforms: sharing opinions, pictures, and stories.

The privilege of having an opinion rather than a reaction.

But things are changing, and we feel the weight shifting.

Some of us are squirming against it, trying to find our balance

Others are letting go, resigned into the fall.

A few are having Tower moments

stepping off the stool: deliberate, on new terms

leaving behind what they stood for

as their cloak drops to the floor, heavy

the velvet folds in on itself, and air escapes

we see remnants of the place they were, fading

the things they upheld

crumpled to the floor

What imagery did you see?

Where are you pulling back? What do you gain, and what does that require you to give up?

When do you choose to find your balance in the current situation and when do you leap off, making a would-be fall look deliberate?