The Eagle Crash Landed

A Performance Poem

The Eagle Crash Landed

They speak of walls as though there's purity in division, as though walls can't be climbed, that they can't be damaged,

That Banksy won't spray paint a picture of a Mexican child being bullied by the American border patrol, as she pleads for her mother, wailing behind a cage with nothing but cling film keeping her warm in a place that looks more like an animal rescue centre, than a respectable shelter.

They speak as if 800,000 public sector employees aren't working out how to use last week's fees for the rent this week, that their not panicking about being unpaid, As a president throws a paddy because he wants a wall built around his country, claiming the “Obama’s have one around there house for safety!”

Like a child jealous of a toy, he wants everything his own way, brought up with everything, yet ignorant of everything.

No insight resides in that mind, no intellect, or openness, If Lucifer gave him the apple from the tree of knowledge, it would be useless to him, he'd throw it away for a quarter pounder with cheese.

His mind is so small that he can only process the cries of the youth, the anger and the hurt of the future generations as “fake news” and “twisted truths.” The only culture he knows is the fabricated USA, the one that sells body image, sex and McDonald's day by day.

But as election day draws nearer, the race for presidency intensifies, the candidates will point out his lies, his unbridled hatred towards other races, Those who voted Trump will see their leader unelected when he re-words and repeats the same phrases “they bring drugs and rapists” He states, not realising that his government still legalises child marriage, Knowing of the constant shootings occurring, neglecting the dead children filled with bullet holes in high-school crime scenes, the heartbroken parents burying children, enraged at there "Glorious Leader" for sending only “thoughts and prayers.”

Donald, he's a danger, A threat to the United States of America, These immigrants and their children contribute to American society, put them in cages and label them an all manner of profanities.

Whilst you ignore the bullets flying in schools, the public sector workers needing paychecks soon.

The Empire is crumbling,

The Eagles crash landed

Maybe when he's left in chains, the impoverished of America can break free of theirs, reforging the fate of the USA, rebirthing the New World for a New People.

performance poetry
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Read next: I Am A Bullet.
Jacob Jackson

Northern Actor and Writer.

Instagram @jacojackso 

See all posts by Jacob Jackson