Amy Riddell

Cycles of Tyranny

With the bare knuckles of his right hand,
my father pummeled the shadow

my mother wore like a face.
These were the Reagan years, when might

made right, and lies gloved as truth
slapped us all so silly we collapsed,

like now, concussed by the hammer
of daily headlines, the rule of law

submissive to the rule of thumb.
What made America great again

was a hand up my skirt
or a man like my father pounding a bible

into my lap. In those days,
when a boyfriend punched a hole

in my wall, I called no one, said nothing
about the silence he’d cracked open

to help me better grasp the lessons stashed
all those aftermaths ago—

the final blow after a snarling night:
a blue-uniformed voice on the phone

admonishing my mother, Don’t call again.
Because, after all, a man’s rage is no crime.

Sohayl Vafai is a lawyer, poet, and painter.  He is a former member of the D.C. Youth Poetry Slam Team and has performed at the Kennedy Center, the Atlas Performing Arts Center, and other venues in the Washington, D.C., area.  He received his B.A., summa cum laude, in English Language and Literature from the University of Maryland, College Park, and his J.D. from the University of California, Berkeley, School of Law.