Long As You're Living
Numerous Blue Notes
Sitting, trying to write, nothing
comes to me. Nothing is what it'll have to be.
Over the weekend and immediately
following the election demonstrations in the streets,
Not my president! But today is Monday
back to work and the business of business in America.
Never have we been fierce warriors.
Rhett Butler got that right: in any confrontation
with the state a platoon of new recruits
with automatic weapons outguns the stately
samurai. Ken and I were eating veggie
burgers and drinking local beers over worries
our fellow Americans will soon start shooting
Jews and Asians, lesbians and disabled veterans
whoever's recommended on the news.
There's a learning curve to disregarding tweets
and the remedies offered on facebook. Our refusal
to be more than the sum of ourselves
is our saving grace. Therefore, let
the peaceful transfer of power proceed.
Democracy doesn't guarantee smart choices,
just a chance to correct the mistakes we'll make.
The peaceful transfer of power is now underway.
High point of the day--a talk with my son
and a walk in the pre-Spring February sun.
Sun and son and then you're done,
exploding blood vessel in the brain or armageddon.
A near-majority of the electorate apparently
disagrees that immigration is our legacy, our ace in the orifice.
The people the elected president will serve are the same
selfish, spoiled, cantankerous, unpatriotic, diverse
revolutionaries as at the nation's beginning. Maybe
it'll all work out in the end, no nuclear flash,
no concentration camps, no clear victories or defeats.
Having conflated my unhappiness with that of
the whole village, I must find a way to love the populace.
Our refusal to be more than the sum of ourselves
is our saving grace. Only a fool repeats
an activity that brings him to the precipice
of his demise. Leave things incomplete
and pointed toward eternity, like horses.
Copyright 2016 by Robert Ronnow.