“Kennel”

 

c. 2023 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(3-23)

 

A canine in the kennel, teeth bared and sharp

Taken into custody

By the Manhattan civil authorities

Charges filed in court

A sensation that media outlets will soon breathlessly report

Around the globe

Spinning tales of protest and preening pundits

Faces to the camera lens

The calendar reads January, once again

Diesel trucks belch their fumes

Peacocks feather and fan their plumes

The Gadsden flag flies

As if today evoked a memory of 1775

Did Lincoln later answer the question of our fate as a nation?

Not so, it appears

Democracy is in arrears

Division provides a meal fit for scoundrels

A plate of grubs and bones to gnaw

A withering carcass, revealed in a seasonal thaw

My country ‘tis of thee

Sweet land of lobbyists and conflict

The destination spot that our founders picked

In between the kings and queens of an old world

And new-age stones, violently hurled

In the name of betterment

A crashed car, crawling off the road

A ferry full of freedom fighters, struggling under the load

Rights surrendered

Liberty, tendered

At a cost that causes an eye to tear, and heaving breaths to swell the chest

We haven’t reached the battleground, just yet

A virtual town square

Bullhorn static fills the air

The leash goes taut as onlookers jump backward

From the barking mongrel

Spitting saliva by the mouthful

One paw raised as a sign to the defiant crowd

“PROTEST! PROTEST! SHOUT IT OUT LOUD!”

I need more than a casual drink

To consider what this day has become

A clash of tribes, opposed

Soldiers dressed in street clothes

The pledge taken since childhood, now has a hollow tone

Uncle Sam doffs his hat

America will survive this disruptor’s spat

And abide