A Writer’s Prayer
let me be an interference pattern.
Let me disrupt people’s lives.
For the numb suburban,
let my work cast a harsh light on her unexistence
while showing her the way to a life worth living.
For the smug businessman,
let me show the leprous nature of his greed
and bring him to humility and decency.
For the intransigent materialist,
let my words cast doubt upon his trenchant beliefs,
enough to bring him to his knees to cry,
“I just don’t know!”
For the white-lighty,
let my efforts slop a bitter, acidic paste on her
Let it dissolve away the illusion and disease of enlightenment.
For the unserious,
let my books be comets smashing into their
polluted and barren ground. May my words set fire to their skies
and roll them under mile-high tsunamis. Let them
bring lasting gravity and unignorable starkness to their silly moments.
For the cynical,
may my stories be like a fierce sandstorm,
stripping away their pustuled flesh and eating into their poisoned bones
until nothing is left but a Mary Sue or Larry Stu.
For the rich,
may my words make them poor.
For the poor,
grant that my words make them rich.
May my work uproot oppressors and cast them down;
may they lift up the oppressed and give them the courage
to fight on.
May children love my disruptions,
and grow up to love them even more.
And when they become elderly,
may they draw hope and faith from them.
Grant that my interference disrupts generations uncountable,
that through it humankind becomes more peaceful, diverse, tolerant,
modest, grounded, humble, quiet, graceful, judicious, virtuous, and decent.