I Would Like to Think, by Susan Castillo

I would like to think
My fellow citizens believe in fairness,
Sporting chances, helping underdogs.

I would like to think
Our arms are open to those fleeing war
In search of sanctuary.

I would like to think
This country is a place where children
Have enough to eat and grow

I would like to think
We stand for values such as
Tolerance, civility, compassion

I would like to think
We have the sense to vote for leaders
Who are not corrupt buffoons

I would like to think
We are a nation of sane people
who do the right thing in the end.

City on a Hill, by Susan Castillo

Those in power are deaf
to the screams of dark-skinned children
penned, taken from their mother’s side.
They are blind to little fingers
clawing at metal mesh.
Much more comfortable
to look away. After all,

these swarms of migrant children
are different, dirty. Vermin really.
If they’re locked in metal cages,
their parents will not come.
Collateral damage.  A good deterrent.

Better for God’s Own People
to put America First, build walls around
Our shining City on a Hill, Beacon to Nations.
We’ll raise barriers of Scripture,
erect ramparts of indifference.
After all, God’s on our side.

Make America Great Again by Susan Castillo

We must come together now.
Grab ‘em by the pussy.
Build that wall.
It can’t happen here.

Grab ‘em by the pussy
Lock her up
It can’t happen here.
Swastikas painted on a wall.

Lock her up.
We won.  Get over it.
Swastikas painted on a wall.
You’d be in jail.

We won. Get over it.
Nasty woman.
You’d be in jail.

If you’re a star you can do anything.

Homeless by Susan Castillo

On screen, images flicker.

A puce-faced man is shouting

he will make us great.


Crowds cheer and chant

Make America White Again!

Lock Her Up! Build That Wall!


Their hatred flows like lava,

viscous toxic avalanche.  It surges,

strikes me like a fist.


I feel the grief rise fast,

black ice that splinters heart and throat.

Huddled in the darkness,


looking from my window,

I mourn for my lost country, see rain falling,

hear bells tolling, tolling.

Letter in Protest at Fracking in Sussex by Susan Castillo


You want to let them drill beneath
our land, whether we agree
or not.  When we tell you
An Englishman’s Home Is His Castle
You reply, Stuff That.

You bang on about
England’s Green and Pleasant Land
while doing all you can
to wreck it. You inject poisons,
pollute waters, kill our wildlife.

Besides, fracking’s such an ugly word
evoking suppurating fields,
landscapes seeping wounds
meadows bubbling blood.

Still, business is business after all.
I wonder, Sir, in short
whose pocket you are in.

As the Spanish poet Quevedo said,
Poderoso caballero es Don Dinero.”
Don Money is a powerful gentleman.