Sad State

This land...
sand to concrete and back to sand

the great fall
with all of our progress
ending worse than when we started

sniffing back tears
into a hoarse cough

too many dog tongues
limp in the air
after yesterday's stink bombs

pawing at the peppering ashes
too many dead and wounded

war
clouds lowering
with a huff of the circling wind

bad breath
we leave as fog
and bad bad
politicians not knowing
when to shut their mouths
and change their diapers

all too unbelievable
nightmare madness
too scared to scream

nose drip

slipping
heels and hips

falling on our butts
fracturing our tail bones
and not getting up

the garbage truck speeding past
the driver laughing
spitting a wad
out the window
with a little whoop

hitting
our nonblinking
bullseye.