I'm a writer, I remind myself
Over and over and over - I'm a writer, I'm a writer;
And I know the first rule: show don't tell.
But what do you do when they correct
The voice you've owned, every day,
All your life, telling you it's wrong?
How do you hide exasperation
When no effort is made to mask
Blatant biases? It should be written this way.
Why shield contempt from theory-
Dense academics who note in red I understand, but
Why is the voice strident and shrill, angry?
Or how do you show what they've seen
Every day, all their lives, but still ignore?
Who made this rule? Not me, not mine.
Just once I want to show and tell,
So I can be sure they've seen and heard
But just didn't give a damn.
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