Diatribe (Thinking of Donald Trump)

Wealth is a form of power
that requires blood,
is historically linked to abuse 
and the fear of truth,
unnatural dependence on lies
and the breaking of pledges and contracts;

and the use of courts
to undercut human rights
and preserve the plights
of Afro and Native Americans, 
as well as women,
whose bodies, once stood on pedestals, 
are there for use
with or without their consent.

All this is recorded, written down
and captured on hidden cameras
or preserved on phones,
as technology spins out of control
to the edge of space
where truth is finally honed
and nobody knows
the original intent for America;

where wealth, once mined,
is judged by dollars acquired,
the cars you’ve owned,
and the number of women you’ve fucked;
having mocked the truth
and turned rights to historical fiction,

assumed greed breeds a happy life,
despite the strife
that robs all life of beauty until life is gone
and you haven’t begun to live it,
though you have pursued
whatever it was you wanted; 
were determined, come what may, to hold it.

You’ve never learned
that happiness, like a hummingbird,
always pursues the next flower;
is light of touch
and perfectly willing to move on,
knowing loss is a cost of loving
and the price of life.