Fledged from rehab in the naughty nineties,
(while POTUS held US hostage, to assert
his right to the emoluments of office,
without shame, despite blue dress stain),
I set the foundation of my fresh woken
days during silent morning walks, since
the rhythm of exercise helps unspool
decades of tapes, and helps exorcise
Demons raised in pools of poison
spilled from boatloads of spirits –
enough to turn this mother’s son
into a thing dumb as a bag of stones.
Those many days of mute recovery
were so good that I recalled how
to whistle, so good even that the boy
who first learned how, now had returned.
(So what that a new POTUS makes even
the least of his predecessors look good)
as the sun keeps on its westbound track,
somehow – we’ll take our country back.
Dave Read