Scoundrel Time

Elegy for the Republic

A sick scene
of financial corruption,
secret videotapes, spy rings,
rigged voting machines, cocaine,
political purges, easy as lies,
trafficking, industrial waste,

and always white supremacy
—a coup—
so it seems, and it is true, but
didn’t democracy decay
a long life ago, long before,
only just we didn’t know it yet?

Res publica, a public thing,
a republic is composed
of the people,

the power of the state
the steam that rises from
the energy of the people,

the citizens churning
in concert and equal
in means distributed—

and if half the people
are largely but
enablers, abettors of disease?

Power to the People—
to get down with
our individual selves?

no unity in ignorance,
come together
under whose terms?

Power to the People
—and to the trees
and the grasses,
masses of bees,
the mountain cats,
mercuric ghosts of salmon,
poets, evening bats,
the rain-worn rocks,
and crows





Image by: