Monday, November 14, 2016

This Old Body (a post-election poem)

This old body, yearns for yester year
Fourth of July hotdogs, Coca-Cola n’ beer
This America smells, good n’ plenty
Image of peace, well-being and safety.

Transmuted visions, of nostalgia now come
Black and brown brethren, express aplomb
Newness arises, America are we keen?
Tell me my sister, are we so mean?

The new body dazzles, diets and dialects,
The old body tattered, dreams found wrecked.
The new body bold, invites us to play
Are we so dogged, turning away?

This old body, Rusted has arose
Machiavelli, stares down his nose
What have we created, what will we leave?
Help us old body, new body to cleave.

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