Monday, April 17, 2017

Late Awakening: A Dream - John Field


Each time you approach a mirror                            Come out, come out, the war 
With President Trump is over 
And the coast is clear.
Blessed with doubt, his climate change deniers, 
Mercenary army of lawyers, girlfriends
And tax accountants fled to the hills,
Every last one of them,
Except for a few cuckoo congressmen 
Who flapped their wings
As they flung themselves out of tall buildings
And landed berserk on the ground.

“Dead? They told you I was dead?”
A republican senator said, 
Stalling for time,
Trying to steal his soul back
Before they hauled it away. 
You don’t believe me? 
Just visit our cemetery and ask around. 

Look up at the wild gray yonder— imagine it
blue again, back from the brink of extinction 
like God----and please! Let the world turn green
And marvelous again. No more caprices
With nature’s thermostat. 
Imagine sick trees healing themselves,
Their shade deeper and cooler than ever,
Clouds filling their lungs 
With conventional weather,
Glaciers taller than the North Pole
And healthy whales beating the sea to foam. 
Such things and others 
Will happen if we make them so
Because anything else is unthinkable.

                                                         ***

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