The face of America
If I see him again,
I will complain
to no one nowhere.
There is not a reliable
complaint department.
I see him
far too much.
His loud voice
and hulking presence
disturbs nature.
I must walk away
from social media,
I mean it. But here I am,
and there he is.
If I see
him again,
I may flee to the woods,
deep in the
mountains.
I am dreaming.
It is impossible.
I am too old.
Not even
Henry David Thoreau
lived in a shack
on the shore of a frozen lake
when he was in his seventies,
never mind
he only lived to be forty-four.
If I see
him again,
I might destroy this computer,
and every computer in this house.
I will urge the neighbors
to destroy their devices
with hammers and tire irons
and
that will be
when I am arrested
and kept
for observation.
There
will be talk of
El Salvador.
