Dictators gonna dictate. Tone police gonna police tone. “Tell a soul” is usually preceded by the words “didn’t” or “don’t.” I say, politely, bite the hand that feeds you these placating, sedating, bullshit tidbits. Chew it up, spit it out, yell for help, and continue yelling for the righteous slaying of history’s holy hellbent death cult. Pretty please. Use your voice or lose your voice, Valerie slurs. The mouth on her. In spiteful, pernicious, American English, she confronts the players of Disney’s High School Musical while running through a collection of mean mugs for the keyboard trolls. Dialectic of dialects and unredacted reenactments. Truth or dare, Valerie swears. Save the drama for your mama’s homophonically-translated generational trauma. Centuries of snakes pitted meek against meeker. So the speaker of this poem’s (scared, but brave) kicking over gravestones, unburying the perpetrators, and putting ‘em on record. outside voices, please by Valerie Hsiung (Cleveland State Poetry Center, 2021).
