Now that, in the tall tale tradition, I have elevated Beyoncé in poem #495 to goddess and creator status, I thought I would try to do something a bit more serious with the subject. It’s fascinating to me, but not surprising I suppose, that an image, the same image, seen in two different contexts, can have the opposite effect on the viewer, in this case, moi. There has been over the last 8 or 9 years, with the rise of Christian Nationalism in the wake of Trump, a kind of perversion of a cherished American symbol, the flag. Now, in this moment, the waving of the flag, the brandishing of the flag in yards and off the backs of half-ton pick up trucks, makes me queazy. But Queen Bey, on a horse, waving the same flag, for me anyway, has the opposite effect. I’ve tried to articulate that here in this sonnet, which includes an extra two lines, a bonus rhyming couplet, which makes it not quite a sonnet; in the same way, I suppose, that with the extra new lyrics and a bridge that didn’t exist in the original, “Jolene” is not quite “Jolene” on the new Beyoncé album. Her “Jolene,” and her “Blackbird,” are both somehow more (and better, or richer, I’d argue) than the originals.
The Proud Boys and the Oath Keepers and all
those other Christian Nationalist groups
have made me afraid of our country’s flag.
I shit you not. One year there was a rally
in our town, and a convoy of these trucks,
waving their dumb-ass flags off their tail gates,
paraded down the street where I live and
I was afraid, unaccountably so.
Or not so unaccountably, given 1/6/21.
These white thugs with their guns and idiot
ideas: I did fear for our safety.
But put Beyoncé on a horse waving
that same flag, and suddenly I’m home,
suddenly, I’m in the clear, a safety zone.
On my album cover, she’s naked and unarmed,
red, white, and blue sash, a cigar, no harm.
michael jarmer 