...we have an election coming up. I can't think of better commentary than the poem below, once again by Marthe G. Walsh. I guess I should name Marthe poet laureate of
Wounded Bird...or something.
Imitations of Morality
The scratch of gust blown leaves, stubborn yellows, brown
the last of reds rusted on their way to mud
just beyond the pavement’s crown
of civility, the thud
of campaign weary feet tracking voters down
in last gasp desperation of fanatic
assertions of perfection
possible in election,
ignore the gush of faulty candidates erratic.
The patch of virtue tended, meant for harvest
by the flame of ultra-conservative torch
is but withered interest
in protecting those who scorch
the very fabric of the soul to invest
with new authority a male government
not just hostile to women,
dismissive of each human
without a suit of cash to cover raw resentment
of all “those people” living their own way,
without permission, without the “guidance”,
rule of oppressive patriarchs sway,
smug and proud of their own ignorance
that in secret makes them nervous of prey
turning to stare down the profit stalker,
challenge the right of a small elite
to take, to hoard, to gorge on red meat
while masses starve at the table of the slick talker.
The long, slow fall of a losing argument
turns to an early, ancient, mean, strategy
of claiming to know God’s intent,
noblesse oblige theology
that strips away a woman’s right to consent,
to control her own body, the intimate
used to intimidate, shame, unhinge,
the tactic of unholy fringe
threshing force from rape to see sacred seed proximate.
The thatch of suspect false ideology leaks
and rots in the rain of words worth remembering:
Truth from clouds of glory peeks,
trails the liar dissembling,
clings like the stench of death while greed prevails and speaks
as if justice were the exclusive property
of any self-proclaimed elect.
Truth shines, the timid to protect,
through fog of moneyed might to reveal equality,
not some fleeting, fashionable stance or politic,
just neighbor loving neighbor without fright dogmatic.
