by Scot Siegel
These days, I can’t think of the Douglas Firs
that tower over our street, or those shafts of sunlight
flung like angel wings through summer boughs,
without thinking of dog shit.
Not the garden-variety shit that lines roadside swales
not those nuggets of wisdom imparted by the city council
but that nonsensical shit that keeps falling from the President’s lips.
Yes, this is Oregon. It rains here, and we’re fairly liberal
at least in the five blue counties; though even the reds concede
cleaning up Bush’s pile is a tall order. Barack and Hillary
might not have the noses for it –
But I want to assure you, from where I sit with a shitty May primary
skidding way out on the horizon – our shovels are ready
We’ve been ready for years.
Yes, we will report for duty when the doggerel day comes
On the twentieth of May, Oregonians will unleash their delegation
51 out of 2025 delegates may be a whistle only a dog can hear, but
Every bone counts, they say –
Fellow Country People, Oregonians stand ready
We stand ready with visqueen hands extended!
Scot Siegel is an urban planner and poet from Lake Oswego, Oregon, where he serves on the Lake Oswego City Planning Commission and Board of Trustees for the Friends of William Stafford. His poetry has previously appeared on The New Verse News, The Oregonian, Open Spaces, and Red River Review, among others.
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