Return of the Unwoke

(“The Cave of Unknowing”, 2012, original oil)

I’m an open-minded kind of guy.
Which means I don’t care about your politics
Or religion or athletic team preference
As long as you don’t let it come between us.
So I tend to have friends all over the spectrum
Even the woke end
And they all seemed to like me well enough 
Until they discovered I wasn’t woke.
And sometimes all that took was recognizing
That they were.

The Woke, you know, tend to take their position
As the default given
Like something we should all agree upon,
But when you don’t
Then awkward silence grows
As if just being silent and not vigorously assenting 
Is the worst possible social faux pas.
In the old days and old world
Such a faux pas got you sent off to the gulags
And whatever it is the Chinese commies 
Called their little camps of terror
And forced re-education.
Today you just get unfriended
Online and in line, say at the post office.

Friendship it seems has changed 
From affinity and interest 
In another for who they are
To a more primitive and ominous 
Closing of the ranks
To protect the in-group,
A group which by such action
Is no longer the cool crowd, as much as simply
The one screaming out their insecurity.

The Unwoke tend to have that effect
A winnowing of the chaff you could say
Separating the grain from the husk,
The meat and bones from mere skin and clothing.
What is it the Woke want?
Security in numbers
And the Unwoke?
Freedom. Freedom to be themselves
And even have the occasional stimulating conversation
With the Woke.
And does this ever happen?
Not so much 
Since the Woke stopped being free.

(6/30/26)

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