The Day America As We Know It Died

On the least of these they feed,
devouring dreams deferred
delighting at the prospects, of
blood diamonds and deals on
the green, greedy mouths move;
mitigate with lying lips
tearing flesh from bone,
heart from humanity
soulless in their sight, a bottom
line as legacy, their leadership
labyrinthine walls erected errant
losses. Death comes for
the weak, artists and poets
occupy every cell.
Audacity or hubris, call it
anything but just. There is no
silver lining for the Average American
no hope—honor left us with hate
instead, and we gasp our last
breaths in bravery, as we cry

Kim Bailey Spradlin is a 2016 Pushcart Prize Nominee, published poet and writer, and former columnist for Five 2 One Literary Magazine 2016-2017. Kim teaches writing courses online and works as a freelance editor. She lives in Lawrenceburg, TN with her husband, published poet S. Liam Spradlin. You may contact her at: Read other articles by Kim.