A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
We always thought, deep down,
no matter how badly our politicians lied
things would turn around. They always have.
After all, this is America.
We’ll never go the way of Europe.
Never see the smoke of burned flesh
rise over the camps,
our poets dying slowly in gulags.
We are the good guys in white hats,
vanquished Tojo and Hitler
put the world back on course.
Give or take a few million murdered Indians
we were God’s chosen. How else
can we account for all that money?
And any swinging dick can become president.
So far, everybody’s got beer and hamburger
in the fridge. The police have not
come into our houses and taken us away
for things we didn’t do, or because
we spoke out against the current demagogue.
But wait a minute. What did I just say?
The way things can change with the light.
The way you can go to bed happy
and wake up to something you can’t imagine
happening. Like a president
who likes Nazis. Like people
who would starve the old
because they’re useless, not fat enough
to feed Mammon’s furnace.
And our Democrats.
How they whistle as they walk
down the aisle with their parachutes on
headed toward the door,
the rest of us gliding, pilotless
toward the streak of blood across the dawn.
Copyright 2017 Doug Anderson