In T-Rump’s America, we wake
to the news of a mass shooting
worse than any other...
until the next one
and no talk of how the perp
got weapons of war
intended only for soldiers,
or how they were hidden
in a hotel room because
what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, or
of how 58 dead and 500 injured is terrorism
no matter what color or how many
the shooter,
while SCROTUS sends
his “warmest” condolences
and the NRA
sends excuses.
In other news:
In T-Rump’s America, we make
any show of protest
against killing or beating Black people
with impunity, stealing their wages, their chances
for a good life in a good neighborhood
or a good education
all about a song, troops, and a flag
that the same people complaining
wear as bikinis and underwear,
leaving piss and cum and streaks of shit on it.
But somehow kneeling silently, arms locked
in solidarity against the national betrayal
of our ideals of equality for all
is disrespectful.
In T-Rump’s America, patriotism
is a dirty word
spelled F-A-S-C-I-S-T,
spelled R-A-C-I-S-T,
spelled N-A-Z-I.
In T-Rump’s America, we let
nine million children
go without the means to get medical care
because making sure the richest
pay as little as possible
to support all you freeloaders
and your roads and dams and electricity
and airports and bridges
is a more important item
on the agenda.
In T-Rump’s America, SCROTUS
and his evil minions,
strip the budget of our first stab
at universal healthcare
and shut down the sign-up site
during the enrollment period
because undoing the work
of a competent, educated Black man
who dared be uppity enough
to be elected president before you
and more beloved
is more important
than the health and welfare
of hundreds of millions of people
In T-Rump’s America, we say
to hell with the brown people
in our forgotten colony,
their lives swept away, under water,
dark, cold, starving, thirsty
teetering on the edge of cholera,
dying in darkened ICUs
and nursing homes,
out of insulin, cancer drugs,
fucking oxygen,
while SCROTUS spars on Twitter
with a woman trying to save her city by
wading through chest-deep water with a bullhorn
to find survivors,
while sending all the aid we can
to the people in the great states
of Texas and Florida,
because, you know, it’s an island.
There’s an ocean,
and the Devil
can’t cross running water.
–2 October 2017
Image by D.Jenks
