If there were one bad apple on the cart
What would you do
If there were ten bad apples on the cart
Who would you tell
What would you change
The cart or the apples
Or is that just the way it goes
The way things are and have always been
At what point do you overturn the cart
Dump it and start again
“But wait… give the apples a chance
They will all sort themselves out”
But they haven’t, have they
What if there were a hundred bad apples
And the cart was bleeding and broken
What then
Should we give it time
Be patient
Have faith
There has been time, generations of time
Yet the bad apples persist
They have grown large and brash and spiked
With clubs and tanks and gas and bullets
At what point does the cart lose its mandate
We have lost enough
Have waited over long
Sometimes you need to overturn the cart and let it burn
This poem is the result of a writer’s group discussion about our current protest culture. We have one African-American in our group and she accused us all of holding back and not participating in the dialog. For myself, a White Male, I felt that I should probably remain silent and support the protest in other ways. How could my voice be welcome? However, she pointed out that as writers we are obligated to provide a voice to those that do not have the language or audience needed. She challenged us to write something that addressed the protests. This poem is what came of my effort.
By A W Kearney
So Many Words... 