poem
Volume 36, Number 2

A Tidal Wave Poem

in my dream, the strongman threw my pages 
of poems into a wastebasket and told me 
not to write another poem about democracy.
so I wrote a tidal wave poem instead.
no more poems about human rights 
and fundamental freedoms, free and fair 
elections, independent branches 
of government, freedom of expression and press, 
constitutional guarantees of civilian authority. 
no more poems about democratic principles 
that fashioned my poems, they, that turned chaos 
and madness into people power, would no longer 
have permission to enter my poems. instead, I wrote 
a tidal wave poem that wasn’t a democracy poem
or a democratic principles poem. no, this was 
a tidal wave poem about a tidal wave coming.
not an about-democracy or about-democratic-principles 
type of poem, not a poem about diversity and inclusion, 
one man-one vote, international law, or equal justice 
under the law. no, this poem was about a tidal wave. 
a tidal wave so strong and so powerful, so potent 
and so heavy, it could destroy everything evil 
in its path. a tidal wave thousands of miles long 
propelled by the benevolent strength of the sun, 
the moon and the earth. a tidal wave so demanding 
so dominant that his eyes and his lungs 
looked drowned. a tidal wave that yelled
don't ever fuck with my country again. 
a tidal wave so powerful, so so heavy
and strong, that, yes, it deserves its own poem.


—Gil Hoy