Now that it’s officially voting season and ballots are being cast, I can share my latest publication, “Ghazal for the Late, Great America”, published a few weeks ago at One Art. I don’t write a ton of politically-themed poems these days, mostly because the themes are recurring (like a nightmare) and it’s hard to break new ground after a decade ice skating on cow pies. But I’ve recently fallen hard for the ghazal, and letting the form take me by the hand has perhaps broken the spell – at least for the duration of a single poem.

Ghazal for the Late, Great America

Gold leaf will not liberate you, America,
from this ten-year migraine. The hour is late, America.

The “shining city upon a hill” has doused
its lights to dusky. Not great, America.

All of those billions and still stuffing your face
with Big Macs? Your heart rate, America!

I read, It’s like being in bed with Jekyll and Hyde.
Only a masochist would date America.

The K-shaped economy: when the rich put on hoods
to slaughter the penniless. X-rated America.

The Pequod was melting pot, peppered with people—
your neighbor is your shipmate, America.

Stop blaming the tired, the hungry and poor
for your callowness, O third-rate America.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John Locke walk into a bar—
Tom Paine was your true prophet, America.

***

My first attempt at a ghazal was this one.