We’re only halfway through this year of crises
that has stolen so many memories,
sprayed terror like graffiti in our cities,
and ravaged lives like blossom from spring trees.
We cling to a glass cliff as our world falls apart,
stunned by the contempt of presidential farts,
the hatred and violence that’s breaking our hearts.
What a relief it will be when this an[n]us horribilis finally departs.
Kim M. Russell, 6th June 2020
For this week’s earthweal open link weekend, I have resurrected an old poem from 2016 and rewritten it.
I am far away from the ‘marching, protests, projectiles, pepper spray, low blows, speeches, burning cars, funerals, tear gas, posturing with Bibles, invectives, rhetorics, theories, cell phone videos, baton crunches, curfews, solidarity, despair and hope’, but that doesn’t mean haven’t seen, heard or felt it. It took me back to the summer of 1964 and the shocking footage on the television screen. Nothing much has changed.