Posted on September 22, 2004 in Campaign 2004 Poems
The reactions to the manipulated polls of the last week are sadly predictable. Too many of my friends have flown into a panic because of them, thinking all is lost. Strangely, when I drove down El Toro Road, checking out the faces of those who have W stickers on their cars, not a one of them was smiling. They don’t trust the polls either, especially with this morning’s news that 1.3 Americans fell into poverty in this last year.
Poetry, some think, should be subversive. But I think what we need now are the good old songs that rally the faith, that bring strength to the heart.
You must expect them to belch. What gets me are when we duck as if halitosis were a hurricane. Don't release your grip on the oar just because you sniff the stale scent of their dinner. Your direction beats their drift. Put up a sail summon the breath of the multitude.
Think fifty four percent.