Constitution

She swore an oath

to support and defend against all enemies,

foreign and domestic.

To protect a constitution young boys died

giving her, to give her daughter.

Nobody mentioned

the enemies in tailored suits,

smiling under soft box lighting,

shaking hands for cameras

while their names sit blacked out

on flight logs and victim files.

She raised her right hand,

so many damn times,

while theirs were busy accepting bribes,

redacting paragraphs,

And perfecting the angle of denial.

They told her about enemies

with flags and accents,

through briefings and propaganda

of deadly villains with suicidal-callings,

weapons of mass destruction,

animated before

giant American Eagles and God-fearing Country;

so we’d know who to fear,

and we’d feel patriotic dying.

They never said anything

about the ones with season tickets

and private islands,

legacy admissions,

monopolized ownership

and holiday cards from judges;

who move through airports

without being screened,

and move through life without consequence.

She took an oath

with her whole being,

believing “defend” meant

shield the vulnerable,

hold the line,

stand in the gap,

protect the people.

Now she stands in a building

with a seal on the wall

and fluorescent lights humming,

scrutinizing citizens,

and families with babies,

for a system that shrugs

at its own reflection

and dines with deceit.

We watch families torn apart,

citizens shot for speaking out

and friends without food and heat

in a country that swears it loves justice

-as long as justice

doesn’t have a last name on a donor list.

“Foreign and domestic”

was supposed to mean

if danger comes here,

we don’t look away;

we stand the fuck up and fight

for our neighbors.

Our mothers.

Our daughters.

But the danger came

wearing cufflinks and a billion dollars,

with private jets and silence clauses.

It came from deals with the devil

and a soulless administration.

And suddenly,

no one can remember

what the word “enemy”

was ever for.

So she polishes her badge and

counts up her years.

She plays her part in the machine,

while a deafening question

bubbles in her throat:

Who are we really defending

when the ones we swore to stand against

are the same ones

signing the checks?

She took an oath

to support and defend against

all enemies

foreign and domestic.

What if the only thing we’re defending

is the story they sell us?

And the only thing we can’t support

is the lie?