poem 237 of a poem a day for 2012

sugar maple news cycling in ye ol’ USA

a heavy sag weighs down

the leaves this July

as we are burning

with Summer time

every day some fire begins

and we hear the words

wild and untamed

as if we ever had a mastery

over this element

there seems to me

to be a growing disbelief

that our great society

the one that LBJ so named

when he had a more level headed Congress

that was more full of less advantaged members

than today’s versions of back doors and back pockets

there seems to me

to be a growing disbelief

that our great society

was a hoax

meant to coax

the hesitant

into selling their souls

to the big war machine

to the constant turn-over

and over with dead bodies

and slide show presentations

how many civilians

have we killed today

how many soldiers

pay with their lives

force fed yellow ribboned lies

how many have brown skin

or latin names

or were just poor

and needed a job

I keep hearing

that civil war is possible

in the caterwaul of alcohol

in all the cajoles and cries

of the working stiffs

all repugnant and

protecting their pensions

they want to blame someone

so they blame the not so white President

the latency of their regard

is hard to miss

though to be fair

they hated JC too in his day

it’s called the massaged

the message of fans

the watchers of the winds

blowing money into holes

we call musical graves

cue up demands

then bait and switch

the captured reasons

any one not on board

can then be accused of treason

so in this season

that is all heat and bother

we do not need to know

who are founding fathers are

let alone what they have to give

or what they may have been thinking

they were profiteers

they were slave owners

they were nothing but white

land barons, so as you run

your hands over

the barren and the charred landscape

and find insurance companies

have out clauses meant

to save them and not help you

recover your costs

all you need to know is that

all we need is the bleed of mothers

like Demeter in Autumn

with her arms full of seed

and all our pains She carries

that make her look like

She is channeling Atlas sometimes

EJR ©