Jennifer Lagier- A Poem

Blood and Memories

 

“… knock the crap out of them, would you?” Trump said, drawing cheers and laughter. “Seriously, OK? Just knock the hell — I promise you, I will pay for the legal fees. I promise. I promise.”

 

It’s bread & circus spectacle,

the chest-thumping Neanderthal

intent on smacking down truth,

civility, people of color.

 

Brownshirt brigades

sucker punch protesters,

stifle freedom of speech,

seethe with unrestrained anger.

 

Like turkeys,

the roused, rabid mob

pecks with vigor

at whatever bleeds.

 

Das Fuehrer

provocatively scripts

the mother of all reality shows,

pours gasoline over fire.

 

“Knock the crap out of them,”

he gleefully goads.

Promises to pay all legal fees

for his violent supporters.