Quantum Crime

Echoing up 15th Street,
I hear the rotten rotor cuffs
of the political vehicle
hurtling along democracy’s
poorly-paved lane: the experiment
that requires us to continue.

Resounding up 11th Street
come partisan pleas,
geese honking in formation.
But the driverless, fleshy body
rolls on, and we
clench our fingernails deeper
into the illusion of progress.

Blaring up 8th Street
come the vested interests,
the party lines,
the pockets stuffed like turkeys,
and the mouths without spines.
Hurtling forward, accusations hurled,
the squeals curdle.

Whispering up 5th Street
comes a muttered, embarrassed prayer
for sanity and clarity.
But the contempt oozes
in the chasm dug by
hands that could only dream
of the word freedom. A
rushing river of fire.

Pronouncing up First Street
are the marble minds
fixed in geologic time;
forget the fathers,
those foolish confounders,
there is only quantum crime:
Once observed, forever defined.

Under marble scaffolded dome,
they stand, a Nation collected.
Each serving blinded ends,
each deserving,
the fruit they have all
touched and bruised.

1 Comment

  1. Oh dear – that’s the way Impeachment Day feels in DC. I want you to talk me through it. I got the feel of it but not sure about some of the symbolism.

    Now go look for a Bluebird! B xoxox


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