I Dreamed Again of TrumplandiaA Poem by Bob BI dreamed again of Trumplandia. The nightmare keeps recurring-- The lines between fact And fiction constantly blurring. The best of the worst is stifled; The worst of the best promoted. Reality is expressed In words that are sugarcoated. Lady Liberty frowns; Her stance seems to shout: "Away, huddled masses! Wretched refuse, keep out!" What is crass becomes golden; What is golden turns crass. What appear to be diamonds Are actually cut glass. Vindictiveness is praised. The language becomes oblique. The common form of expression Develops into a shriek. Walls surround the country, So high that gawking crowds Strain to see the tops Obscured by dreary, gray clouds. Cameras are able to capture-- When the spotlight shines-- The pupils of the leader: Two dollar signs. Despite reports, only A few wallets grow fatter. The government sends the message: Wealthy lives matter. I cringe when I see the people Grow more and more apathetic. I tell myself it's a dream And hope that it's not prophetic. (5-1-16) © 2016 Bob B |
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Added on May 1, 2016 Last Updated on May 1, 2016 Author
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