If I Yearn For More

23 February 2024

The president stumbles, like so many times,
in so many places. Is this what it looks like?
The man, like his culture, stands pert at death's door.
This has happened before, and to us, but how little we know.
Is it back to the Gilded Age? Back to the old problem
of starving farmers and captains of industry, presiding
(please note the same word) over all. Who's in charge? Back
before the Progressives intended to intervene, there was money,
lots of it, but somehow not enough to go around.
It's as old as Cain, like our president, these cycles of bust,
the perennial bust of the workers, or so the Marxists say.
But is this how a culture dies, or how one is born?
Or both forever, interminable differences generating
life and death? I don't know. I will never know.
But I like to explore. It is good for the spirit
(especially one at death's door) to be exercised. So far
I've seen this president preside at death's door over
his hearse and that of his century, but time will forgive me
if I yearn for more.