our country in eclipse

 our country in eclipse 


when the moon blocks the sun

nightmares become tears

tears for the dead

the dead a deluge

a deluge of grief

no grief at the white house 

the maskless party

plays Russian roulette

the bullet a virus

they are the gun

they follow the “leader”

they fear he’ll fire them 

end their fantasy

their fantasy of power

if the virus doesn’t get them first

his legacy death

a deluge of death


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