Thursday, August 6, 2020

You cannot stop the rolling

A toast to the flowers of late summer coming into blossom now
Especially the goldenrod that made him sniffle and sneeze mercilessly
My small portion of divine vengeance for his making me work the fields in the heat covered in            Poison ivy.

A toast to the proud willfully ignorant angry American
A perverse offshoot of this experiment in democracy
And to the now coloring leaves of the poison ivy and the browning ferns of late Spring
 Nothing really lasts, not even the bad shit.

A toast to Beirut's newly deafened and to the sweating crack dancer on Main Street, Worcester Oblivious to public health concerns but offering a window into enhanced brain chemistry
And also to the progressives of color elected in the spirit of change - a branch of green growth in
 This desolation.

A toast to the Death Cult in power, may they die out in accordance with their Apocalyptic wishes
We are not only this ugly-bloated-ignorant-petty-selfish-greedy-sickened Monster
Though we are this - in part at least - I say to thee we are also something else
 Something higher - something true - something not yet fully formed.

Something surely greater than just hucksters and dupes.

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