Poetic Prose by Karen Beatty
When I talked about civil rights in the 1950s, you told me you were not prejudiced and didn’t need to hear
(I went to dinner at your house, where you got drunk, and I managed to grin and bear it.)
When I protested against the Vietnam War in the 1960s, you told me I was misinformed and unpatriotic
(I went to dinner at your house, where you got drunk, and I had trouble swallowing.)
When I marched for women’s rights in the early 1970s, you smirked and said your wife had it good
(I went to dinner at your house, where you got drunk, and I bit my tongue.)
When I stood up for gay rights in the mid-1970s, you pretended no one in our family was gay
(I went to dinner at your house, where you got drunk, and I choked back tears.)
When I worked for gun regulation in the 1980s, you shrugged and flaunted the Second Amendment
(I went to dinner at your house, where you got drunk, and I swallowed my rage.)
When I brought up climate change in the 1990s, you dismissed the science and voted for deregulation of corporate polluters
(I went to dinner at your house, where you got drunk, and I pretended it didn’t matter.)
When I tried to stop the war on Iraq in the early 2000s, you embraced W and applauded the invasion
(I went to dinner at your house, where you got drunk, and I felt nauseous.)
When I told you Trump was dangerous and unfit to serve in 2016, you agreed and voted for him anyway
(I didn’t go to dinner at your house, and you wondered why.)
When I wrote about trans rights, Black Lives Matter, the plight of the Palestinians, anti-Semitism, choice, and the January 6th insurrection, you insisted, “It’s all just politics,” and remained silent
(I didn’t go to dinner at your house and never will again.)
Reared in an impoverished family in Appalachia, Karen Beatty later trained as a trauma-informed counselor for veterans, immigrants, firefighters, and police officers in New York City. Her short stories and essays have appeared in various publications; most recently in Mud Season Review. Karen’s first novel is scheduled for publication this year.
3 thoughts on “I Went To Dinner At Your House”
Nice rhythm! Well done.
Very well done!
WoW ! .. Just WoW ! I came to substack like I came to bellingcat
hungry for the real deal / right stuff .. even gawd awful TRUTH ! 🦎🏴☠️
& kapow.. you sure-dee delivered the goods.. total props to you !