I wrote this poem for Entertainment night at our annual beach vacation 2018:
Living in a Dictatorship
By Michelle Brodie
July 20, 2018
I was born in the baby boom
The Greatest Generation had rid the world of a despot and from impending doom
Rosie the Riveter could put those muscles to rest
And replace them with a baby at the breast
We baby boomers were taught to respect , to aspire, to reach ever higher
Even be president
But can anybody be president? I was very skeptical
In fact, it seemed quite impractical
We would find out quite soon
For then we had Ronald Reagan, a B Movie Actor and quite the buffoon
Amazed so many found him appealing
I was only pleased he raised the speed limit ceiling
Next was a Rhodes Scholar
I remember election day well, how it made me holler
Yes, he turned out to be a lascivious little cad
But the unemployment rate went down quite a bit more than a tad
Anybody could get a job
Even a worthless lazy slob
Things in our little democracy seemed to get better
A decade of economic prosperity and a president who could even write a letter
But then we had a president as dumb as a rock
Followed by a constitutional law professor, our very own Barack
Eight blissful years seemed to make a mockery of Plato’s proclamation
Until the election of 2016 nearly brought an end to our democratic nation
“Oh Vladimir
I always want you near
Let me whisper in your ear
Oh Vladimir
I want to be just like you
I want you to help me see this through
Oh Vladimir, my darling Vladimir
I want to be just like you, a bully, a tyrant, and a brute
A monster, a killer dressed up in a suit
I already have luxuries and lavish possessions
Now help me Vladimir restore my white supremacist obsessions.”
Policy Makers condemned Socrates to death
And it was like a doctor being persecuted by a pastry chef
I think the calamity Plato had predicted
Was coming to fruition and democracy was being evicted
I think I am living in a dictatorship
Our president and the brutish killer Putin are joined at the hip
Clean water, clean air, open spaces, ecological diversity, and yes, even human diversity too
All dispensable in the current milieu
The things I cherish most are vanishing before my very eyes
My beloved Grand Staircase stolen for the coal and oil it contains: I shouldn’t be surprised
But I won’t stand by and let the brute prevail
I’ll go to the land of ice and snow,
The land of Sulphur works, fumaroles, steam vents, hostile cattle ranchers, and stinky cows
And there I’ll cast my ballot all blue
It doesn’t matter who
As long as the column isn’t red
I will have done my duty to stop this country from becoming a white supremacist hotbed
And when people ages hence
Ask how did your country become so forsaken?
For it seems you are living in a dictatorship of your own making,
I’ll be able to stand up and say, “No I did not make Schindler’s list
But by god, I did resist!”