Blog Post #2
On this inauguration day, it is appropriated to say goodbye to the leadership of the past four years. The poem below is included in the book and is fitting for this day of new starts for our country. It was written about four years ago.
Man in the Store Front Window
And he was animated in the storefront window.
Wound up, if you will.
Mechanically bouncing from the knees and shaking his head
with a pulsating rhythmic pelvic push.
More flexible than a twist-tie whilst more loose.
Chest all puffed up like a toy balloon
except the air was seeping out of him
with such high-pitched frequency.
Far more annoying than squeaking and squealing.
Perhaps it is because he is frail,
he continues to chatter.
Non-operatic like.
There is no earthly knowing to this.
No enduring glitter or shine.
Just rude and needy.
With his focus on optics,
some people love him at first sight.
And then he loses his mind if they cannot be proven useful.
There are only gashes between spaces.
Gaps between gasps.
We are ever widening in awe.
We are ever deepening in despair.
He is ever so much promising to deliver the high “C” note
which can pierce and thrill.
Standing on rickety truth
which never balances on its own.
And what happens when all the glitter lights go off?
Are we all then just blinkered?