Praise poem
Emma Gonzalez,
I wish I had never heard of you,
I wish I had never seen you
wiping tears from your eyes
as you stood on the platform
and spoke for the people,
for the young people who died,
for the young people who survived,
for all the people who know
that what comes out of the barrel
of a gun is inadequacy and
envy and smoke and hating
people as beautiful as you,
Emma Gonzalez, you
with your words that shame
the traders in death and lift
sad friends, miserable families,
bewildered children, and all of us
across your country and the planet
who stand amazed at the power
of your voice, Emma Gonzalez,
your angry laugh,
your daring your president
to become a man, to own up
to his blood money in deep
pockets, I wish I had never seen you
rooted on the stage, defiant,
your head like a wonderful marine’s,
Emma Gonzalez, cropped short
and meaning business, meaning
to clean up big business,
meaning justice, meaning a scattering
of vendors’ tables: your tongue scourging
the ones who trade in carnage
and the ones who watched
the gunman swagger, the gunman
pose, the gunman possessed
by misery, by smoke, by nothing
of any worth. You have given us
hope, Emma Gonzalez,
by your courage and your words.
What a sister, what a friend,
Emma Gonzalez, what a daughter!
