What is it like
to live on
the storm front
in the USA?

When clouds of discontent
come close and portend
agents of our
shared destruction;

When poverty’s blistering winds
blast the faces of
the poor women, men,
and starving children;

When the sounds of sorrow
swoosh in a swirling
tornado,
even though,
the wealthy know
that those
tax cuts don’t grow
our system
but push it to the brink;

Till, the storm drops
and this farce we
call democracy
is washed away
in favor of
an uncertain future.