Finding a Way/Post Election 2016

Norman Klein

Finding A Way

 

After forcing a landing on a highway

Trumpites seize my foreign everything,

forcing me to ignite my shoes

and escape in the ensuing chaos.

 

An hour later my cab driver 

tells me our only hope is prayer.

I tell him life is a yellow light

and in no time we are here,

 

safe in my safest safe house,

where the blind clerk, Constantine,

remembers the rasp of my voice

as he fingers the edge of my key.

 

True to myself I am the perfect guest,

a clean ash tray, an untouched Bible,

a man devoted to leaving knowing

everyone wants him to stay, to keep

 

up the good work, which decoded

means “somebody do something.”

and so we all rush to the roof top,

take out our sandwiches, and wait.


Post Election 2017

 

Indifference becomes our prison.

Day by day we diminish, rats

who can’t find the kitchen while

the king rat dines on women,

 

then insists his fences and hotels

will to free us to fill our cups with  

the rising salt waters that will

become our shared poison.


Norman Klein has published in Ploughshares (twice), EPOCH, and The Beloit Poetry Journal, plus 60 more poems in other LitMags and Journals. He has taught in Boston, Cambridge, Chicago, and now lives and writes in the back woods of New Hampshire.