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Golden Shovel In America
by Bruce J. Berger




(In Homage to Dylan Thomas)


I forget the things that good sense and decency do

when for so long we cow-tow to thugs, not

the values we were taught, and when morals go

as used condoms, into the trash, after fucking the not-so gentle

porn star, and the cultists plunge Into

the Capitol, and tell the assembled that

they should be hanged for the good

of the country, then it’s nighttime in America, a night

of lies, of conspiracies, of grievance, new but certainly old

and the story of rebellion against common sense, of hatred, an age-

old malady of the human race, and by now we should

have burned away these angers, yet still falsehoods burn

in our neighbors, burdens for which they will bear blood, and

they march with spearheads and bear spray in great rage

and take aim at the houses of our law, at

the liberty so many died for, ready to close

democracy’s long chapter, praise death, kill, shout with joy of

destruction on the sad height, curse the day.




a line, (a blue one)


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