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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