Because No Poem will be Read at Trump’s Second Inauguration, Here is Mine

Convinced by scientific TikTok evidence, my sons

               believe the earth won’t sustain them as old men

Undeterred, one surfs wild rivers and steep snow slopes

Dante’s new Virgil, smiling guide to final earthly joys

The other builds gorgeous archaeologies of sound

ephemeral festival cities for the hopeful, the lost

My daughter fights fires, serves those bent by poverty

pours love into her infant, sparkling boy

My husband builds houses for Buddhist lamas, for peace

              for the comfortable rich who cannot sleep

I teach children how to nurture worms, sprouts, compost

make murals for their greenhouse, useful clay cups

Hear this, you broken, misled, profit-blinded, king-minded hoard-men

               We will not stop, we will never give up

Your four-year swansong will come to its natural end