FavoriteLoadingAdd to favorites

The Age of Nefarious

written by: Alison Vail Fuller



haunts me and

our country
spinning back
on itself

images of
wild kingdom beauty
with unfair
blood dripping
from a tiger’s mouth
its limp body draped
over a proud human
our first family
with snide smiles
holding their weapons
well-polished rifles

baby bears
targets of
fair game
in the game
of our president

smog is
yes, befoul
our famous
esteemed scientists
know nothing

moving back
to a time
when we
for a breath
of worthy air
and our water was ill suited
for drinking—
too polluted

will we also return
to illegal
bloody hangers
tearing at flesh

we women ponder
we fight a good fight
we live in shock
disastrous decisions
formed by empty brains
vomited daily as executive orders

what next? what slaying?
what gets axed today? (are they saying?)

red blood
smeared by an orange leader
not popularly chosen
victorious by way of
Moscow plots
Comey shots

smiling rich men
helming every department
proud of
their sport in all their comportment
as they strip empathy
from my country tis of thee
and strike at those people with their bigotry
deny climate change with defiance
blow up every treasured alliance
target innocents with their darts
or strangle
the humanities and the arts

I used to
have a great sense of pride
in our nation
and our optimistic trajectory

now there’s no place to hide
we’re a deformation
of the revered land of the free

from sea to shining sea
we decline as a democracy

money rules
legislators are tools
corporations are people, my friend
no low is too low for us to descend

I thought we—
our country—
could role model
our world

equality and

humanity feels
obsolete today

once a haven
now a hell

walls of intolerance
halls of hate
stifling the best of us
The Age of Nefarious

the worst of
proudly displayed
democracy now a big charade
patriotism hailed as America First
no— it’s the U.S. at its worst



Art by Russel Foltz-Smith

Alison Vail Fuller

Alison Vail Fuller

An author and poet, Alison attributes her passion for writing to an innate need. “For me, not writing is like not breathing,” she says. “It may cause depression, irregular heartbeat — or sudden death.” She divides her time between Southern California and her villa in Saipan, in the Mariana Islands. Alison is fluent in Chamorro and Nepali, and when not writing enjoys playing the crwth, painting ayahuasca visions, swimming and synchronized paragliding, and preparing traditional Lao cuisine for her daughters and friends.

The first anthology of her essays, fiction, and poems will be published by Bovrille Press in June 2018.
Alison Vail Fuller

Latest posts by Alison Vail Fuller (see all)

Read previous post:
High Blood Pressure by Lyle Hutchinson at Spillwords.com
High Blood Pressure

High Blood Pressure written by: Lyle Hutchinson @hutch3713   Wide awake 315am Standing At the gates Of indecision Fears strength...