enter the prez
he,
back from kennebunkport
(sure he and barbie had a good time)
look out the window!
(mr president, sir)
we aint got no summer home.
we,
we lucky
to have a run-down shack
one for every season
of every year
but we can dream,
can’t we?
of the homeless and the beggars.
of the farmers and the college valedictorians
driving cabs,
flipping burgers,
bagging groceries
filing for bankruptcy.
of social insecurity.
but give to other nations,
it’s okay!
isn’t it?
mr. prez,
do you like what you see?
do you really see
a kinder, gentler nation out there?
where
oh where,
art thou?
come on,
mr. president.
sir.
your highness
your majesty.
(let me stand up as you enter the room.
now, let me wait for permission to be seated.)
look out the window.
catfood is a delicacy for some.
beggars are begging.
the starving are starving
in your own backyard.
not in space.
is your obliviousness
fact
or
fiction?
you vomit up a story to feed us.
To pacify us.
(but my eyes have never been covered)
must we believe that racism is a thing of the past?
that poverty
illiteracy
bigotry
the uninsured
is on the decrease?
mr. president,
the usa is not kansas.
prez,
this is not the land of oz.
if you click your heels
one two three times---
---the rich will still get richer
and the poor will still get poorer.
you will still have your summer home,
and we will still have our run-down shack,
if we’re lucky.
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