I'm in a Mood About America

 

Photograph by Bryan R. Smith FP/Getty Images

I'm in a mood about America today.
On Sunday, with such relief and joy,
we hoped sanity had returned,
and Democracy prevailed.
We let out our breath, that we had been
holding for so long without knowing it.
We cried; we cheered; we dared to dream
again.

On Monday, on Tuesday, trump refuses
to concede; launches litigation; behaves
as he always has and always will,
an autocratic toddler living in his bubble
of denial - unreality played out by
a reality star, but on a world stage
tilting and toppling as he flails about,
while citizens sicken and die.

I'm in a mood about America today.
Where are the consciences of his
obsequious enablers?
Where has legality and the Constitution,
lawfulness and tradition, heritage and
Democracy gone, when one 
deranged and toxic person
can hold a planet hostage and no one
is brave enough to tell him
it's all over, his mad sad game
is done?

I have PTSD from watching the news.
Like an abusive relationship, the madness
has gone on too long.
I need for it to end.
I need to not hear that voice 
creating stress in my head.
I want to remember what it was
to be amazing.
I want to remember what it was
to simply live, without fearing
that the world is ending.

The President-elect speaks
in his calm, reassuring voice; he smiles.
All will be well, he says;
the process will play out.
He is more concerned that
the current president
is trying to remove health care
from 20 million souls
in the middle of a pandemic.
(And still the trumpian psychophants
smirk and grovel.)

In January when, in spite of everything,
a new President takes the oath of office,
when sane minds rule and diplomatic,
inclusive language returns
to the airwaves, when the orange toddler
has toddled away, with his grinning cohorts,
we will welcome back the America
we have always known - with its
great-hearted people, its shining dream
of peace and a unity we must now
all work to build. We will remember
what it is to feel amazing
- to spend a normal day -
once again.

We will reach out our hands in friendship,
invite the "other" (who is just another us) in,
we'll say "thank you", say "I'm sorry"
and - together - we'll begin
again.

for Wild Writing with Laurie Wagner. Inspired by the poem "Say Thank You, Say I'm Sorry" by Jericho Brown. The italicized words are his.