I used to believe that I was not part of my birth family
-that they only wanted me when I was of material use to them,
and called it 'cupboard love' when I sought acceptance.
In my utopianism I imagined that I could choose
who I might be liked by, who would accept me,
no question asked. But Covid severed too many connections....
Looking back at the time I still lived in hope.
There were many hopes that made me feel better,
they extended to use of words like 'homophobia',
with the many variants, where it's sponsors hoped
the changes they fostered were positive and permanent,
A reset of reality that could not be reversed.
I was almost convinced that through language alone
the world might be changed forever. But not quite.
Part of me knew that government is a matter
of legal mechanisms, 'Levers of power' where such levers
can be used in different combinations, to different effects,
regarding wealth, choice, and power across the strata of society.
But everyone in my chosen family avoided asking
what might happen when an unrepentant fascist
grasped the use of state power and spoke and acted
with no sense of being even slightly capable of error,
or in need of the need to seek forgiveness.
In such times every statement from every 'great leader',
take your pick from Trump, Sisi, Putin, Orban, many others,
is more right because of whoever the speaker is, than wrong
and damning with their crude and weak grasp of the details.
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