Tuesday, July 28, 2020

day TWELVE HUNDRED and EIGHTY EIGHT


THE STREETS OF PORTLAND


Secret federal agents strike out
From the shadowed edges of
Portland’s streets and people are
Hustled into unmarked vans
When the DOJ and DHS take
Over the cities of Amerika.

Nixon drooling from the grave
As protesters are disappeared
Like it used to be in Chile
Like it was in Argentina
Like it is in Russia and China
So efficient without witnesses.

But now everyone is a witness,
Everyone films everything
And sends it out to the world.
So we see those who would
Prefer to remain unseen, the
Deeds gas masks try to hide.

Each night more people in the
Streets, linked-arm lines of mothers
And fathers with leaf blowers to
Scatter teargas into nights held
Hostage by the inadequacies of
One man thousands of miles away.

One man possessed with hate and
Fear, who feels his fragile empire
Collapsing beneath him but who
Wants to be Putin, Kim Jong-un,
A whole military junta by himself.
Even Nixon knew when to quit.

--M.J. Arcangelini




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