Minions of Mindlessness

 

 

Theirs was blight not as big as it seemed. I used to start my car after

work in Coeur d’Alene, knew it might explode. The crazies had no

limits though we could have been friends. They were lost in a hate that covered

their inner sky with dark brooding clouds blocking sun, moon and stars.

 

Last night’s Perseid meteor showers were like messengers

across a black sky in North Idaho as I slept under the stars.

The Aryan Nations that banded near here remind me of Trump.

Muster like mustard gas in World War I. They lost their bluster

and were forced to go away. I hope that the minions of

mindlessness raging across the county right now don’t

rise from compost as if no one has learned from my

ancestors that died because they were different.