Poetry from Pat Doyne

THE PRICE OF EGGS

The time to prevent fascist dictatorship

was yesterday, not tomorrow.

He said he would burn it all down—

and now we choke on smoke.

He promised retribution.

Made no secret of his hates—

brown-skinned immigrants,

gays and trans, import prices.

Made no secret that his game plan

was Project 2025.

But we didn’t expect he’d hand the reins

to the man who bought him the office,

a billionaire now looting our coffers.

Yes, I’m angry.

Angry at simpletons who ignored his words,

ignored his crimes, his insurrection;

ignored his pandemic failures,

and voted for him because he said

he’d lower the price of eggs.

On Day 1, as promised, dictatorship begins.

We watch him try to end birthright citizenship,

close public schools, defund social programs,

take over the Panama Canal, Canada, Gaza.

Each day brings job loss and threats,

hijacked budgets, chaos.

The time to stave off chaos was yesterday.

Today, we watch democracy on fire.

Our grandchildren will sift through its ashes.

SYNCHRONIZED CHAOS