bourbon blisters

high winds and thunderstorms warn
of the impending doom of the people of the bourbon city
with empty promises of a bustling metropolis renewed
people scorn babies torn from all that they have known
levees fall
these citizens of the states united of a. stand tall
needing resources and hopeful courses to lead the way out
refugees
reused excuses and statements hatched in the white house basement
bush's only engagement with the new orleans enragement
arises out of a propensity to be preoccupied with the security
of petroleum gas fuel for the noveau underrepresented slaveship
that we call rescue
explain how so few military crew have come to the relief of the sad and mad
presupposed to be less that that currently roaming the streets of baghdad
convoys of 'our boys' with their military machine toys
govern over the weak and the restless
with teflon in their vests
bearing heavy hearts to get off of their chests
knowing that the federal powers that be
that have sent them to 'govern and protect'
are not truly doing their best
guns blazing over hurricane victims like savage animals in cages
i'm still not sure why it amazes me
you see
here in the melting pot of dilapidated democracy
we cannot seem to come to the aid of minorities as rapidly as we do overseas
people on their knees on rooftops
children missing moms and pops
guns cocked and wonder why they hear shots
shocked
and frustrated
inundated with hopelessness and fatigue
as outsiders
can any of us really empathize with those of the southern city of new orleans?
politicians with small ambition of our beloved country stall on pivotal decisions on the hill
while more and more evacuees in astrodomes and convention centers and highways get ill
these bastards won't pass the referendums to get the mission filled
a historical city under water with little to no order
now earnestly has some blues to share stemming from the unraveled seams of its very own french quarter
i dare condolezza rice or colin powell to pack a towel and travel there for one night to sleep on one cot
in fear of getting raped or shot
these people pillage because they have not
no man can claim to understand what it feels like to be in this wasteland
with every impending day
a growing sense that you are a forgotten prisoner of war
on your own land.