to look back over my old poems now takes on a new sense of sadness and longing. it’s a reminder of the relative peace and stability I’ve enjoyed over the past eight years. things weren’t perfect, but as I contemplate the future, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed by dread.
I want to revisit a poem I wrote in January 2009, shortly after Obama was inaugurated. it’s been on my mind lately, as the entirety of my adult life has taken on a whole new meaning in the cold, harsh light of the 2016 election results.
ECONOMIC STIMULUS PACKAGE
bugler stimulus package, drum rolled
spliff smoked, roach, black clove in the ash-pot,
inaugural hit off a resin ball the size of a shopping mall,
this is how these things progress.
moss on the canyon of enamel
choking out the wisps
in perfect noose smoke o’s
ask me about
my economic recovery plan:
to buy a bag of now and laters every time i get paid
a box of condoms though i never get laid
and dream of the bonny day, the American dream,
when the burning ball
or at least the seven fingered stash