Signs of distress

Ever get the sense that America’s going downhill fast? Here’s a poem about that.

Jim Esch

--

I leave the aging boomers
at the record fair
with five used CD’s
in my bag.

I drive home
along Lancaster pike:
fading outlet malls
cropped December fields.

I pass a giant sign
beside a collapsing
produce stand,
one lone giant name
desperate syllable
president…

--

--