Immigration, Ivanka, Joy, Love, Mom, Morality, Mother, Mothers, Peace, Political, Race, Racism, Trump, Truth
Men with stiff upper lips gather
in dark rooms, light cigars, drink
Scotch whiskey and avoid their feelings.
White men, holding hard to their
dreams of control and privilege—
the false narrative that “America” is
white, European, and manifest in
supreme destiny to be clean of the
riff-raff of anything not them.
Native peoples here were one with the
land, slaves brought in to tend it,
And the men gather, not white-skinned
always, more like pink, red, sometimes
tanned against the sun, necks burned
to coin a derogatory phrase—
and shouldn’t we with conscience choose
not to use those?
Heaven knows the white, dark, brown,
whatever colored person is as good or
bad as the next;
We’re all prone to mistake. To moments
of joy, perfect and true.
The smile universal, the love Ivanka
knows about even if Dad spits “Fuck you.”
The truth of the dream more than the
border of “seems,” something there is
that doesn’t love a wall and wants it
I thought at first sound of a wall to
the south, “Okay, interesting, we all have
an option to wall our homes off from
the world, why not a country?”
Then I figured out that the term “wall,”
and “Build the Wall” next to “Lock Her Up”
at campaign rallies was a clear dog
whistle to the racist fear-mongering
masses, a racist explosion of “keep
them out,” they’re “criminals!”
And Donald, sir:
So are you. That you do not know
that is why you admire Andrew Jackson
and his Trail of Tears.
You have left the human race, you who
hold onto your racism and xenophobic
fear of others.
You are not animals at play in God’s
field with other animals—you who cast
out “different” as “worse.”
I love you.
We must love the oppressed and the
oppressor, for who at day’s end is more
close to death than life as the character
assassinator, the genocider, the angry,
stiff-lipped cigar sucker,
back rooms lit with the devil’s glare,
hoping against hope to turn your four-
year old heart into four years of
wrecking ball politics, hate, fear
and dismantling more than even CIA
managed in Cold War?
Oh, to be a fly on the wall when Daddy
brought that home.
Mine did every once in a while,
but I forgive him, love him, and
honor the God racist misogynist GOP
sellouts claim to worship by staying
small under Him or Her.
By accepting that Mom brought us here
and deserves our respect!
Not a border full of Cops taking
their children away as a deterrent
to make up for your lack of gratifying
Go back to the wives of your youth,
Trump and criminal sympathizing supporters,
honor your father and mother, but first:
Admit we stole this land.
Not for you, dummy, as I smile to tuck
in your shirt, little guy.
We admit truth to make the world