Oh, how I have wanted to write a poem about the F-35!
About how angry I was when it was allowed
To crash the mountain skies above Burlington.
But when I visited Burlington recently
I realized that the F-35 is only part of the story
Of a town that has lost its way.
And then I could write the poem.
Burlington is not how I remember it.
(That’s a big problem with growing old,
Remembering when things were better.)
The homeless and the forsaken
Are the new tenants of the streets of Burlington
Which, if you are thinking of visiting,
You should know, isn’t the Burlington
That Bernie was mayor of anymore.
But Bernie isn’t Bernie anymore either.
He should retire and make space
For someone younger
Who doesn’t make deals with the devil.