Great like ball games
And road trips,
And church potlucks.
Great like a home-cooked meal at six
Respect for your elders
And actual conversation.
Great like homecoming dances
And the national anthem;
Love for Flag, God and Country,
To thee, I pledge.
Great like soda fountains,
And Drive-In movies
The Ten Commandments
And those damn commie bastards.
The perpetual and proud roll of
Became a punchline.
Great again like
Living the American Dream
Presented on a
Blasphemy-free beaming box
Of blissful hope
And life-changing appliances.
Great like late-night shows
And Rebels without a Cause
Rat Pack rhymes
That still had soul.
Great like sacrosanct springing suburbs
With two-car garages
And no bursting bubbles
Of greed, overflown.
Great like the astral aspirations
Of an entire generation
And a race
to the stars.
Like the mad men days
Of slinging a two-bit smile at some broad
And then a slap on the ass as she walks by
Her inner rage subdued
By the echoes of her high-heeled retreat
Great like the end of the wife’s
Being found at the beginning of a thumb
Tightly grasping four fingers and delivered
On the rocks.
Great like choice found
On the end
Of a coat-hanger.
Great again like the good ol’ days
Of white picket fences, made in the U.S.A.
And white picket neighbours who were as well.
Great like nuclear families
With Nuclear dreams
And a God-given right
To 9mm of salvation.
Great like the annihilation of ancestral abodes
The promise of restitution
Now just pipe dreams and tears.
Great like the right kind over here
And “your kind” over there
Did you hear what I said to you, boy?
Great like segregated schools for segregated homes,
No unnatural unions of this or that nature
None of that devil’s music and improper gyration
No bathroom bills or gender improvisation
All fixed behind closed doors
with enforced reformation
To Protect and to Serve just one population,
And helped by the business end
Of a truncheon.
like good ol’ boy justice
Served by shrouded mob
And hooded robes
Out of a dusty pickup at 2 am.
They shoulda’ known their place,
In this ‘great again’ nation.
European expat, author & poet
In an age of global discord and argumentative clashing, D. C. Cavalleri hopes that his multicultural story and philosophically-accessible writings might help bridge the cultural divide that has become so pervasively entrenched. It is his greatest dream that, by slamming ink to paper, he might inspire young and old to realise that even though we may speak in different tongues and bow to different gods, we do so as one, unified under the homogeneously human experience of simply being.