Poesy

The Crackling Promise

A metaphor of snapping sweet savory swine to the supreme splitting of assumed superiority

Photo by Wright Brand Bacon on Unsplash

I was vegan for a few years for health reasons but I’m an uncured crispy bacon person at the core. Perhaps not a poem for vegetarians but at the rate of the feared decline of my home nation’s preeminence (in dealing with all sorts of obvious threats), we might as well be vegetables! No offense to the vegetables (I still dig my vegetables, just on the side of my bacon, of course).

Or could it be perhaps the saturated fats in this diet of blind self-confidence in ourselves as the world’s ‘greatest nation’ that has slowed our reflexes against civil and intellectual degradation?

Like the joyful anticipation of favored obsession over American crispy bacon,
The pledged mania to a beloved nation,
Its richness, divineness, unparalleled goodness,
Now appears overcooked and disintegrating of darkened strips
of fragile ridges.

Unmatched in pandemic mismanagement;
Unprecedented lost lives to COVID or to backward law enforcement;
Cruelty plagues and corrupts more lost consciences;