America

thin blue chalk line up on black tar
gone gray called concrete curbs
set -not reset- since The Great Depression.

where old weeds
the same weeds
new weeds grow

sometimes, though sometimes
a dandelion grows, too
sometimes, though some time

a kid picks it up -plucks it up-
blows the parachute cotton-
picked soft seeds to the wind

sometimes- so few times
float to full wishes fulfilled
sometimes- so many sometimes

no wind on never fall flowers, but turn flat
and press down yesterday’s gray concrete
bought old sold older worthless oldest

windless without reason why pick up
pluck up a weed and dream it something
some wonderful some-any-thing new

hopes choke on dead dandelion parachute cords
tethered to hot black tar gone gray called concrete
set -not reset- since the Great Depression.

~ Wynn ~

People stop to smell the flowers in gas masks.

I wonder who keeps the Mayflowers at Prescott Park,
Wonder who keeps the Marigolds on Marcy Street.

I wonder at the Mayflowers at Prescott Park,
Wonder how they stay and go year to year.

I wonder of Plymouth down the coast,
Wonder of Mayflower landings to our land.

This Land.

"A rock don't do much; don't grow."
A mouth-masked kid said.

How many Mayflowers drift into Prescott Park?
How many wind glide and set down seeds each new May?

I wonder how many minutes and myths make a Plymouth rock grow.
Wonder if the scent and sense of flowers in May can ring memories

Through blue masks, of the scented and sensible ways
Of Marigolds and Mayflowers, in May, on Marcy Street.

~ Wynn ~

But I can’t America;
I can’t make you Great again,
Because you never were.

Great is finished good;
Greatest is finished great.
You are not finished, America.

You are a living document.
Therefore you breathe;
Therefore you grow.

Make America Greater Again!
Forward, everyday. Greater Everyday.
The Never-done, The Greater-Again.

But the Dream Langston!
The dream deferred conferred
With the downloaded dream deferred.

The Dream Deferred (1)
The Dream Deferred (2)
The Dream Deferred (3)

Downloading…
Still…More…Of…
The Dream Deferred.

Copies… The Great gone dead.
Make America Great Again,
Makes America Dead.

Dead does not make Dead Again.

Langston,
The Dream did not explode:
It started (to terminate) with a political bang,
And ended (to restart) with an Artificially Intelligent whimper.

~ Wynn ~

There’s a peacock sounding race relations.
There’s a fox snarling this and that amendment issues.

There’s an angry man, not really angry, playing angry
For your angry pleasure, on the AM dial,
All not-really-riled up-riled, rolling in his not-at-all-angry dough.

There’s a housing shortage in the neighborhood of the last school shooting.
There’s good people in blue and good people in red blood on the streets.
There’s medicine and there’s insurance.

And there’s the bank. The Bank.
And there’s a loan where the front door used to go.
And there’s a rainbow and there’s the way over it.

Now, we’re talking.
And now, I’m talking about living in and out of a white cardboard box.
So now he’s talking about a white-cardboard-Banker’s-Box-box.

The man wants metaphors.
But I don’t want a metaphor,
I want out of this cardboard box.

“That’s quite a cardboard box you’ve got there,”
He says to me from his perfectly good not cardboard,
White-cardboard-Banker’s-Box-box.

So, we’re healing.
So, we’re doing what we would not do.

We’re being who we were afraid to be.
Finally.

But we’re afraid of it.
But we ought not be.

Because we’re already what and who we need to be to do the thing.
It’s just a matter of doing it.

So, the only thing in our way is yesterday.
But that was yesterday.

So, we don’t know
What’s in our way.

But I do.

It’s today.
It’s this Right Now.

We spin against it.
We crash against it.

We wham.
We bang.
We boom.

Boom against the doom,
That’s not in the room.

But We
Must win.

So We
Do win.

One win
At a time.

So…

I am a giant and a giant killer.
I am the mountain and the moon.

I smash it down.
I raise it up.
I sculpt it

Into
Something
Beautiful.

~ Wynn ~