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After the Funeral

- by Linn Barnes

After the Funeral

After the funeral, 

the ceremony and the burial,

after the vast sadness of 

John’s death has sunk in, 

after all that was publicly said about John,

if you agreed with his policies or not, 

and so many applauded in tears

the derision leveled against Trump, 

and so much hatred and disgust 

was leveled in tears, in anger

 and in reason against Trump,

you would have thought 

he would have found a dark hole 

somewhere far from the cameras, 

where, alone, he could shudder and wonder

why he brought so much shame

upon himself, and how, 

now, he might seek atonement,

become a better and saner man.

You would think that, 

every reasonable person would think that,

and you would be wrong, 

for he did nothing of the kind. 

He tweeted and tweeted, 

over and over, 

nonsense babble,

psychotic drivel concocted

for his cadres of rustic sycophants, 

as they collectively 

discussed the coming violence

they would initiate 

should he be overturned, 

should the witch hunt prevail,

how gleefully they would bring 

chaos to the streets of our land.

An unimaginable and perverse

iteration of America is being 

churned out before our very eyes and ears.

And it grinds on and on with no end in sight. 

Does this man somehow think all his posturing has purpose, 

that he is here to teach and reform, 

to bring about a sweltering and exploding 

new Jerusalem, where racism will win out,

where cruelty will prevail, where money, 

vast amounts of ill gained money

will dictate solutions, where our oligarchs, as in Russia, 

will rule the land and the poor and helpless 

will have no other choice but 

to join the growing ranks of the absurd?

It seems Mr Trump has a mission.

Are there any heroes left in the land?

Will the Congress not finally stand up and 

put an end to this aberration of truth and justice.