Parted clouds reveal farmlands spread out for miles below
From windowpane to distant plain and townships in between
Clustered around crossroads ringed by fields (wheat corn soybean)At mile after mile of fields home to cows and hay
Air passengers glance briefly down before they glance away.
Looking down on crossroad towns and farmland’s fertile grid
A few above may think of how how lies have truth hid
From lives lived so far down below those so far overhead
Fly first class flights to destinations privileged lives have led?
Do a few glances glancing down before they glance away
Understand what those below may soon put into play?
Our country’s at a crossroads and in four short months we’ll know
If what we’ve tried to be continues or heads down below
Depending on the number of votes for the lying shit
Are cast by the fly-over land throughout which he’s a hit
Have invasion fears and other lies spread thick about
Each farm and field below congealed or will truths still win out?
18 July 2024
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