Donald Trump: A Sonnet
America, how I thought I knew thee well!
Land of the West, of golden gleaming hope,
Of the People’s answer to Dante’s hell;
We who with freedom and slavery cope.
America, how I thought I knew thee well!
Land of the West, of golden gleaming hope,
Of the People’s answer to Dante’s hell;
We who with freedom and slavery cope.
Do not be fooled by the fool,
The man who flaunts and struts,
Whose words are empty but cruel
Like the waiting grave a genocide abuts.
Dear “Mr. President,” I have learned so much from you during your brief stint as “president” that I cannot help but write to enumerate the ways and to thank you for them, and I would be remiss if I didn’t start […]
Lost in the daily maelstrom that is the Trump Presidency, one defined by the behavior of an infantile, mendacious, bigoted, misognyistic, xenophobic jackass, is the troubling fact that nearly half of those who voted in the election voted for such a […]
When the threats rained down like lava
And forged fiery beaches of hate,
I took to the podium to smother
With love the fire into steam,
Only to hear they, the unaffected,
Say, “Let’s not get political.”
The flags are at full-staff
Though Jackeline is dead
Of dehydration
And the Guatemalan boy whose name
Has not been released
Is dead
Of the flu—
I’ve spent the past few weeks working to formulate my response, practical as well as philosophical, to the election of Donald Trump. During this time, I have been appalled to hear well-meaning Democrats, from President Obama to Chuck Shumer and […]
The steam began to billow,
The engine howl,
The air to vibrate and scowl,
The sun to emerge from below
To erase shadows, cast doubts,
Cleave good from bad,
Stir the lover and the lout.
Time heals all wounds
And makes normal the insane,
The abhorrent, the terrifying;
Like the frog in boiling water
She distracts and delays
Until it’s too late,
Until the world becomes
A boiling caldron
And we die, alone and surprised.
The first step to tyranny is blame
Laced with fear:
Immigrants, minorities, The Other—
All who stand between the masses
And the glory of yesteryear,
When all was simple and all were tame.