by Dale Jacobson
Trump’s thugs come wearing masks
like the KKK would hide their faces
to not be known by the honest light of day.
To be surprised by American fascism
is to forget to ask what the country has been
for the poorest of the poor from the beginning,
or how the worst of the worst made their law
bright with fire, whips and murder.
You think reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in school
ever meant justice for all? Or for the poor
a just country ever existed? And the hatred
and terror Trump now brings to the cities
is a new law of a land that once was free?
Yes, they are paid to break families apart,
they are colder than the deepest cold of
Minnesota winter. The past also has its allegiances,
cold-blooded and brutal.
And what do these thugs get from the mayhem
they generously offer as their vision of America?
What do they take home for their supper of dreams?
Their bribe is what they take.
What is the moldy crust they want the nation to eat?
They don’t care. They never did.
Dale Jacobson is a poet from Minnesota. He has published ten books of poetry and appeared in a number of journals, including APR, Great River Review, and Another Chicago Magazine.
