Autumnal Days In America
It’s autumn time in America,
the colors are changing ...
(it’s alt right to gasp in whited disbelief)
as poplar majority, quaking Aspen leaves
slowly fall off
the John Birch branches
Minority bad weather report
says with autumnal census certainty,
that the colors are changing
irrevocably
And as such,
the changing of the times
has weed hateful nettle disgust
rooted permanently
Forest green consequences are seen
ever spreading
with solyent rapidity ...
(it’s alt right to paint a Snow White
enchanted cottage fantasy)
As the waxen ruling majority,
manifestly, cope with
becoming the newest minority
These be the autumnal days —
the kaleidoscope, tabernacle feast harvest
befalling America
Changing of the color landscape
is being coldly received,
winter frostily ...
(it’s alt right to fiery bemoan in ash-white grief)
The reaping season of Autumn
has duly arrived in America,
with equinox clarity
Equal time for daydreams and nightmares
demand sober vigilance,
as the latter-day fermented rain
begins to foment fall —
An end gathering of
rainbow intolerance disparaging,
mightily ...
(really, it’s alt right to cry with pale hope rantings)
Winter teardrop flakes of uncertainty
are alabaster doubtful falling
America now ghostly faces
the haunting reality of changing colors,
changing what was to what will be
Autumnal days of whine and wilted white roses:
a nostalgic weep binge of dead leaves ...
Drunken ivory desires
porcelain pining
for past skin demographic superiority
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment