100 Days and Counting
The agent of change is wrapped
in a neat package of one hundred-
day increments like fabric softener
or college-ruled paper.
It is the marketer’s promise,
the salesman’s ploy that a new
habit can be established as easy as
one, two, three months and change.
While Americans wait, partially sheltered,
partially masked, entirely grateful
each day we do not wake
with a dry cough or fever
we can return from exile, improve
ourselves with 100 days of
Eating real food
Walking 100 Miles
In the next 100 days, our wartime
president, who is losing his battle
with an out of control virus
and cowers at addressing
the Russians’ bounty on our soldiers,
will not take one step towards self-
improvement or self-awareness. His time
overwhelmed with puke tweeting,
watching Fox News and waging war
on his own people whom he promised
to protect, but most hold to his
heart, like the American flag he claims
to covet, that more citizens have died
than in nearly all the casualties
in every American War —
He trusts his genius,
repeat after me person, man, woman
(pause as he thinks of Stormy Daniels),
camera, television. . . Person, man
woman (pause as he thinks of Stormy
Daniels), camera, television.
His eyes get sleepy from his tired
hypnotic mantra. Person, man, woman
(I’m afraid of AOC), camera, television. . .
Earned extra credit for circling an elephant
his lackeys ‘yes, sir’ him into fitness,
he longs to re-convince Wonder
bread white-bred America, who pine for
The black and white world of Leave It
to Beaver and Daddy Knows
Best, the world will be more
menacing, more dangerous in full color.
As a confederate general he will conscript
our youngest soldiers to the front
lines to prove everything Is ABC, 123
And winks, “I need you to do me
A favor” go to school.
With crystal ball clairvoyance, imagine
a Labor Day truce will be declared.
Workers will celebrate their good fortune
to stock grocery shelves, process the carcasses
of cows, pick strawberries, and clean
vacant office buildings, while wondering
which day the pandemic arrives at their doors
or lament with the other 20% labor-less people
while doling out hamburgers and fruit salad
In the far reaches of this land, Keeping
socially distant, the mask-less
president takes an 18 hole victory lap.
Three days from the election
will not be the masked
distraction of Halloween.
Postponed until 2021, at least.
The only tricks will surely
be in an October surprise
brought to us by - Russia?
China? Ukraine? Any other
world actor the president has
promised a quid pro quo?
Until November 3 arrives
the fog of these years like
the tear gas in Portland
or Lafayette Square may
start to clear and our imperfect
20/20 vision cleared. Our nation,
having witnessed white fragility
and government institutions
apparently as delicate as fine china,
might finally be broken free
to address our unadorned in plain
sight history that has been cloaked in myth.
100 unpardonable days.
Herbert Hoover lifts his glass.
The weight of historic failure shifts.