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About This Poem
Election 2004
Candidates disputing, scratching, wailing, crying, whining.
Blasts of good here,
Bad there
What truth is there to believe?
Turn off the un-statesman like banter.
Coffee turned cold with no paper to read,
discarded because the riotous words fly at our morning faces.
Answer the phone –
one party, another party,
please give us your vote.
Don’t answer and long messages overflow your memory.
A walk to the mail box
and stacks of colorful cardboard flyers
tumble out all over the road.
They scatter in the wind and are gone
like wasted dollars
that could have fed a hungry nation.
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