It’s November and there’s
a steady stream without
stagnation or scum as glitter
resurfaces in the trash mound
political races raise fear
and candidates come clean about
dark money cast into shady corners.
Blue power suits and long red ties.
Upward movement of mouths
and eyes glowing from carefully aimed light
that sparkles on the stream of words
that doesn’t back up in a fetid pool
and flows almost clear.
3 thoughts on “November Again”
Totally cool poem! Peter Bushyeager brings it home again!
Uh huh. You state it well.
There is a wonderful back and forth to it that doesn’t stop; image and sound