A Missive to the White House
Dear Mr. President:
You've set frozen timetables and locked reason out of your Congress,
featuring parried losses on the big screen of partisanship.
Your black-and-white window to the world leaves no room
for the gentler shades of gray.
In your pre-written responses to the media,
you've laced insinuations about your opponents' shameful breeding,
the skeletons dangling in closets of abrasive comments.
Your lifeless appeal to the chanting masses is a red-white-and-blue rhetoric.
Speeches stutter patriotic sonnets of good and evil,
blaming bin Laden to cushion the blow of Bhutto's loss
without investigating your ally, Pakistan.
And always advocate cookie-cutter molds of the traditional family
to uphold the sanctity of "separate but equal."
But Washington's chair has been yellowed
by your unfailing determination to stay the course.
Carved on its spine, our nation's sun is setting after only three centuries,
all for an absurd certainty you'd hate to relinquish.
Debate these accusations with gusto and
wire-tap my conscience to see if I'm sympathizing with the enemy.
Detain me at Guantanamo, why don't you?
But unlike CIA torture tactics, you can't order these tapes destroyed
because they're my First Amendment right:
to have an opinion different than yours.
So smile for the camera, George, the world is watching you.