Pilloried

“the basket of deplorables”

 

--Hillary Clinton

 

It was a basket of rotten apples

we carried with us on our trek home,

a Pandora’s casket of irredeemables.

 

We had a dream today

but it was deplorable, abhorrent, horrific,

laden with adjectives that had been nouned:

terribles, horribles, awfuls.

 

Like nouns that had been verbed,

we felt unfriended, doored, housed, 

demeaned by a mixed race of metaphors, 

generalizations laced with the poison of truthiness.

 

We were hounded by welfare queens 

with guns and religion, Mexican rapists,

moochers and takers.

 

While in the near distance

a trumpet roused

a xenophobic racist mob to life

within the safe space

of an imaginary wall.

Author of Spy Pond, poems, and Luck, short stories.

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