When America Becomes Great Again

She looks at them disdainfully. They drool.
They wet themselves and dodder. No one's
Home behind their eyes. She comes each day
To care for them, for next to nothing. When
They speak, they're rude to her. She's brown.
She has a Spanish accent, proof to them
That she's not fit for anything but what she is,
Their servant. They're the master race,
But, to her, they're more like poisoned fish,
Afloat upon a river, pallid bellies showing,
As they stink and die beneath the sun, and all
Her sort, now bottom feeders, nurses' aides
And drywall hangers, waiters, roofers,
Gardeners, porters, get by in the murk below.
In time, as these pale creatures perish,
They will rise. The river will be theirs.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 42 times
Written on 2020-02-21 at 11:40

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