Wake up with That Man on my mind

What’s he done now?

What good programs has he reversed?

Get him out of my head

I’m just an ordinary woman who wants a peaceful life

with nice people in it.

When I was a little girl, I thought we all did …

Treat people nice that is

So naïve.

Believed in Santa Claus and cried when a little girl

told me he wasn’t real.

Couldn’t believe my parents lied

But that was only the beginning

of adult scary.

There’s a Red Under My Bed

A monster

Out to get me.

My child’s brain is smashed with holocaust scenes

of people

Appealing from their celluloid story

Eyes, a hollow disbelief pleading


Eyeballs in shrunken skulls

Ghastly sticks

thrown into pits, sprinkled with lime

But this was no pie

This was …

Arms and legs all sticking up and out and over and across and together

In one BIG heap

No headstone

No date

To mark their being.

Or their passing.

Later in life

I learned of what seemed a smaller thing

Suffragette chained to railing

Racing horse

Trampled to death

For the right to vote

“Me too”

To not be sexually abused

To be paid the same

Have a voice


Seeds sown in degenerate soil

nurtured by frightened human beings

breed a crop of hate.

And this man?

A harmless reality joke

on The Apprentice

With a funny schtick

Who builds towers of bauble above the clouds

With golden toilets, hand-towels and pie crusts …

Tells lies

The bolder, the more believable

Is for some; a dark swashbuckling hero from a Marvel comic

But, when an unborn fetus

is more worthy than a child

In a cage,

And pussy is a sexist put down

And not an Amy Schumer stand-up routine

It’s not so great.

So, I talk myself down

He may not get re-elected

but he probably will


He is the OLD American dream.

Designer clothes 

Dangling trophy wives

Surrounded by nodding suits and skirts who

never wash a dish, vacuum a room, or repair a shoe.

Fame, fortune and streets paved with gold

Where Billy Graham treads beside a golden haired, blue-eyed Jesus and a benevolent white-haired, bearded father.

But no longer

I throw away my Old American dream

And replace it with Good America.

I want to know my neighbors

Have money to buy food, sleep in a bed, go to the theater once in a while

Take a vacation

Watch my grandkids play soccer, sing, and dance

Be calm

Be sweet

Think of Obama, Hillary, Bernie, Elizabeth and Ginsberg.

I will brew a cup of tea

I am an immigrant who chose to be an American citizen

I am determined to be good today.

Val Gee

Oak Park Writers Group

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