I Was Born in the "Shithole" but Was the "Shit" Born in me?

Native of the "Shithole"

From the looking glass a clown dressed like a paragon deity 

Climbs upon his throne with gold crowned up to his teeth.

With his reign he promises a land that would soon flourish 

And such that would be made "Great again." 

Instead I witness as he spends his time, brick by brick, 

Building walls that create division and engender civil war.

Rumor has it he suffers from the disease coprolalia.

Each time the assembly gathers ready for his discourse.

He stands at the summit, erect as an eagle,

And with no scruples the clown lowers his trousers. 

Instead of his mouth he excretes the words from his anus,

A black filthy matter that bathes the air with a stench. 

In the wake of the hour, “Send me a refugee 

From the Norwegian Sea I will allow passage through the border. 

Otherwise send these, the Black wretched refuse

Back to the shithole countries or to the sharks at sea,”

The clown declares at the summit in his shallow suit. 

Words. They're just breath.

Yet, they can sink ships and cast away kings.

I was born in the "shithole." Was the "shit" born in me?

Copyright ? by Angella Ricot