Summer 2020 In The Northeast Usa Poem by Hebert Logerie

This is summer time in the Northeast. It's hot, but there's not much fun
We're all restricted, friends: no baseball, no football, no running, no soccer
And no children are playing happily outside around the blocks. But a sucker
Is now living at the Black House. This dude plays golf a lot; he cannot run
Oh! This house was built gratuitously by us, with the blood of the slaves
Who worked days and nights. It is called the Black House, not the White
I could not believe this crap that the slaves received no money. I am right
The slaves did not get paid. I know what I am talking about. No shaves
No showers, no restaurant, no entertainment, nothing. Everything is no
No stinking economy, no jobs, no savings. Many people are contaminated
They are infected, sick and will die soon like the others. This is a fiasco
This is stupid. Everybody is afraid of everybody. How did he get elected?
I wonder all the time. This is too much. This fool must have tricked millions
Of people to be where is now. The people must have been stupid. The lions
Are roaming the streets devouring everybody, with the Police causing mayhem
Everywhere. I am being very nice. I meant police brutalities are really rampant
This is a different world, a scary and deadly world. There's no jamming, no gem
In the streets, only broken glasses, sharp splinters, and huge rocks. Let me rant
‘Black Lives Matter', ‘No Justice, No Peace'. Let me yell loud. Let me sort things out
I cannot take it anymore. I hate the masks, the gloves and social distancing, but
I have no choice. I want to be safe because COVID-19 is sneaky and contagious
I can no longer hang out with good old friends, family members and strangers
This is messed up. My favorite eateries and places are closed. Yet many audacious
Politicians don't get it. They want another election so the masked corrupt robbers
Can operate fraudulently again; they want to steal another freaking election very soon
This time they will lose fair and square. Our God ain't blind; He will be watching this time
Don't you believe me? They won't be able to commit another fraud or an egregious crime
I want to go back to yesteryear. No, we can never go back to enjoy a beautiful afternoon.

Copyright © July 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.