America is sort of tripping down the alphabet.
B for balk, ban, bigotry, bully. C for
Children separated from their parents, moms &
Dads detained, demonized, deported.
Expired visa sole crime of some.
First––America first so we’re tripping out of deals.
Global warming a hoax despite Macron’s kisses.
How about the Iran deal? We wouldn’t tolerate
Iceland doing what the Iranians are doing. Or
Jersey, Latvia, Moldova, Niger, or
Kansas. I mean, I could just pick number[s] or
Letters, scatter them from whose-land-is-this-man’s-
Make-America-great-again red cap.
No wizards needed to erase magic slates
Of accomplishment. Count to ten & deals are
P for peeled. Singsong 26 letters, la la la, a quid pro
Quo’s nailed into A is for apple, P for pie,
R for Raoul deported la la la to his pueblito,
Struggling to survive in México after 30 years here.
T for Teresa, self-deported to El Salvador,
Unraveling pride from her vida as she waits for
Visits from children “Born in the USA.” Oh let
W be for wish, wish to restore reason, for
X-ing out this sort of tripping down the alphabet,
Yankee-Doodling of arbitrary fixes & nixes.
Z? Oh let it be for zephyr. For zen. Oh let it be.
Judith Terzi is the author of Museum of Rearranged Objects (Kelsay Books, 2018) and five chapbooks, Judith Terzi’s poems appear widely in literary journals and anthologies. Her poetry has been read on the BBC, and nominated for Best of the Net and Web. She holds an M.A. in French Literature and has taught at California State University, Los Angeles, and in Algiers, Algeria.
