Artwork:

Carol Powell

the forty-fifth president
is in my living room
screaming and waving
his hands, again

the children want sweets and hugs
and kisses and promises
that they’ll survive all
that Forty-Five prescribes 
to make America great again

the children are afraid and
often have scary red dreams
that are hard to catch
they ask to stay home
from the outside world
and school today, everyday

i teach the children the Prayer
of Tatanka so that they are 
strong enough to face the armies,
and the documents, and the dogs,
and the policies, and the laws and the “treaties”
and the bitter, spitting, piercing words, everyday

two legs are not enough to stand on
we depend on the shoulders of grandfather, the
forgiveness of the maka, and the eagle-hearted 
children to keep our Nation safe from coyote men
and tanks, and wingless birds that roar, and bombs
and fire, and thieves, and papers that lie to us