This morning complete
with breakfast, brushed teeth, and breathing
in intake/exhale fashion minus the
mucus
that hijacked so many dawns might be
one millionth the joy
former slaves felt stirring from
warm bed
in free state as Freedmen.
Consciousness, still in
semi-dreamland, wonders
if poem might reside in half
composed thought.
Abruptly, politics fueled adrenaline
floods synapses
Decide one should not make such
comparisons,
-thoughtful or not- mere days
after Congressman John Fleming
compared
the Republican fight against the
Affordable Care Act
to battles against the Fugitive Slave
Act.
Enslavement is enslavement;
everything else is everything else.
Traces of sleep trance banished,
I rant into keyboard.
Vowing that while crazed
Tea Party members altered a poem
They will not shutdown this poet.
