Thunderstorms rumble
violent along the lakeshore,
crank up the humidity,
and seem to foreshadow
the ghastly roadshow of politicians
lining up skulls to be busted.
I woke up after last night's storm
wondering, "How close is the sound of thunder
to the echo of tanks on Superior?"
I've heard they built a stage on Public Square
for the voicing of opinions, strategically placed
to be nowhere near any politicians ear.
Children, idealists, and rabble-rousers
will bloom there like daisies,
until the tear gas comes.
I read somewhere
you can use a daisy as a gas mask
by placing the flower in your mouth, then
breathing through the stem.
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