Poem of the Week

BY THE WAY

When you rode your asses into battle,

The front charging bayonets forward

In fueled hatred,

Where was the cavalry?

The second wave?

The medics tending the fallen?

The chaplain professing last rites?

The war bonds financing this campaign?

Your man in a top hat and goat beard,

Finger pointing, eyes piecing, voice drilling,

“I want you to volunteer?”

I remember the sixties,

When America confronted her hatred

On the steps of the Lincoln Memorial,

Deciding that maybe, just maybe,

Martin’s truth bore heeding.

Why now do we turn?

By the way,

Do you think I can ever trust those,

Who around the lunch table

Dismantle our leaders and

Those who believe differently?

Who perform surgery,

Accusation severing limb after limb,

Paring away at our humanity till

We no longer move?

Behind closed doors,

Away from you,

I wonder,

What do you say about me?