"American Rot": My Poem on the Steady Decay of the American Political System

         We can see from from Americans' increasingly nervous response to the spread of the Coronavirus just how much damage can be done by three years of an incompetent, corrupt national administration to the nation's health and well-being. By government that is based on loyalty to a criminal boss rather than to the public good, that puts the interest of party over the interests of law, equity, and the needs of ordinary citizens. And by a form of politics that ignores 240 years of precedent and law to insure "winning" at any cost, including outright cheating, voter suppression, and encouraging interference by foreign governments that intend us no good.  
        The spread of the contagious virus also answers the question of who needs a 'big,' but also well functioning government? Apparently every country in the world -- even this one... Who needs public heath care? Who needs a national health care system that guarantees all have access to health care without worrying about how to pay for it?... Americans do.
         Well before the arrival of the new plague, back during the Senate's farcical impeachment 'trial' -- which now seems like democracy's last, wasted chance -- I wrote the poem below, "American Rot." It appeared in print earlier this month in the March 2020 issue of Verse-Virtual.
         


American Rot

Sepsis gone too far
Surgery the only option,
cutting away the rot,
joint by joint,
cell by cell

We surrender a toe,
or two,
almost willingly
Who walks any more
anyway,
while we stare,
'devicively' at screens

Take the foot, why don't you,
and perhaps a hand
Give a hand for your country,
won't you?
What price the oblivion
of endless rot?

Sepsis of the spine
the brain stem
Sepsis of the body,
the uselessly failing limbs
they wave in the wind
like the flags of
forgotten nations

that went this way
Weimar, Athens, the Roman Republic
the body politic
flailing, feebly
Proscription for the intelligentsia

Salutes for the surgeon!
for the final solutions
to indelible conditions,
prior or whatnot,
that weaken the nation

Give him the pistol
now, why don't you
See how easily
he finds a trigger
with his teeth


You can find my other poems and those of 43 poets in total in the March Verse-Virtual  here











http://www.verse-virtual.org/poems-and-articles.html