A Found Poem

       Yesterday I was going through some greeting cards and things that belonged to my mother. I have an old, decorated cosmetic suitcase where I keep that sort of memorabilia. I wasn't looking for anything particular, but I came across a manila envelope with my name on it. Inside was a stack of poems that I wrote when I was in high school.
       My, I was a terrible poet, but certainly I was prolific when I was 16. I was surprised that my mother saved these, as there are other creative endeavors I am more proud of, like the lanyard  I made at 4-H Camp, and the pipe cleaner Christmas ornaments my brother and I made when we were in grammer school. When I saw those poems, I cringed, knowing that I would have to read them. And so I did.
       It was a painful process, to go back and remember that teenage angst I felt, and how I must have thought that putting pen to paper would somehow quell those emotions. Well, that was forty years ago, and we've all come a long way since then. But one particular poem deemed worthy to put into my blog today, especially because it is timely, even today. It's called The Election.

The Election

His hands are damp from touching others' in phoney haste
Shiny teeth radiating from a mouthful of promises
Small babies get a swift kiss, then cry from their carriages
Waiting for the world he'll make better.

Signs twist and twine their way through streets
Elephants stampeding
Donkies in herds
All wearing striped hats
Praising, promising, cursing, degrading
Words like rocks are hurled
Battling, attacking, one against one, brother against brother

All ends on an eve of late.
The victor stands alone.

Funny, not much has changed since 1972, has it? Hope everyone has some time to watch the presidential debates tonight. And be sure to get out there and vote.