I’ve been spoofing the shutdown, but today, talking to some old people who fear losing their medical coverage, and some people who have lost their paychecks and are worrying about their mortgage, and hearing about people whose vacations have been ruined, and children who can’t get their meals, and I decided to write a poem instead. It isn’t funny today.

 

Shutdown. An ugly thing, it peeks around corners,

comes through phones, lives in the

worried eyes of old people, waiting for their checks.

Shutdown offers the Gift Of True Elegance,

for those who can grasp it.

It is never easy to stop thinking ill of others.

You must fall in love with someone who has

accomplished that wonderful feat herself,

or make friends with someone who has done it

many times.

Shutdown. I sit on the streets with the homeless,

and hide behind the sofas of the abandoned people,

waiting for the bank to call,

at the locked gates of the parks,

I am a shadow on the wall of the

schools that do not open,

the food that doesn’t come.

The voices of the angry men are ringing in my ears,

soiling my sweet and beautiful dreams.

I know this, separation from love,

is the hardest work in this world.

What do the angry people have in common?,

they talk about God all the time but all they worship is the past.

Maybe stop being so religious.

Like that.

Blessed are you who are hungry, for you will be filled.

God told the prophets to lie

with the poor, not the powerful,

and give them cause for hope.

Or the Cherubim will come,

and sting their cheeks.

You can use my soft words as a pillow,

as a cushion for your weary head,

let me bring you some sweet honey

to put on your bread.

Shutdown.

I offer you the Gift Of True Elegance,

in the face of worry and despair,

the secret.

It is this thing: pity them, for they are lost.

The angry men are defenseless

against True Elegance,

they will shrivel and disappear,

they will starve themselves to death,

their souls and voices swept away

by the wind. You only hear them,

if you listen.

Blame keeps the anger game going,

it steals all of our wealth.

I will share with you the Gift Of True Elegance.

Be better than them. Every day. Take that vow.

Our hearts should do this more.