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.