We the People
“Give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses, yearning
to breathe free, the wretched refuse
of your teeming shore. Send these,
the homeless, tempest tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”
A Mother of Exiles
With all the horses and all the king’s men,
there is something you should remember:
As we all know the loss of a president
can remain a mystery, we can now sense
that the wish of millions is waiting to
be realized. A longbow, a knife a shotgun,
or grenade no one can see or deny
what is coming. And you, devoured by
emptiness, always want more. With blood
on your hands, brokering treason and
sexual violence, you return bringing death
to our streets. No amount of gold can heal
what is missing. In the absence of grace,
the timeless dream of building a beloved
community, anchored in realizing equality,
is fading. Standing with pardoned criminals
and hungry mercenaries, behind a flag, a bible,
and endless lies, your words lift nothing
and bring disgrace. In the absence of clarity,
and no capacity to take responsibility, every
carnival hack and grifting distraction brings
only more hate. No goodness can abide
what is only deceit. All who have come
to this land realize what is better than this.
So many generations have offered goodwill,
believed in the decency of following consensus
built in community. Together, we will resist,
reject the disease of what you value, and rise
to honor this luminous dream. We will bring
the power and voice of the common good.
When justice returns, stands up a clear call,
and justice will call, your stolen privilege
will end, and the verdict will bind. A new
and secure scaffold will rise to protect
our imperfect union. Behind bars, you can
deal with what is broken or go down failing
in your own mad bunker, as a hopeful vision
returns. We the people will open the golden
door, honor what is yearning, a rising time
for renewing dreams.