Obama Poem (In my waking dream)

In my waking dream

In my waking dream
I am Barack Obama.
leading us all
From the Land of the Pharoahs.
I raise my staff
and the Red Sea States are parted.


In my waking dream
I step into the White House
and see it in ALL its colors.
I open the curtains
of the Oval Office
and let the sun shine in
after a 30 year rain.

In my waking dream
I see the tarnished Hope of my beloved nation
redeemed by all our actions.
I look to my fellow citizens
And see brothers and sisters everywhere.
In my waking dream
I am my own best self
leading and following my compatriots
to their own best selves
leading and following my nation
to a brighter dawn.

In my waking dream
my every wrong turn
becomes a right turn
becomes a detour to beauty
and truth
and righteousness.

In my waking dream
I sleep walk
in the light
of my better angels.
I cash in all my suffering
for merchandise
from the Green Stamp Store
Of Hope.

In my waking dream
all the beloved martyrs
Lincoln, JFK, MLK, RFK, Lennon,
of my past
are resurrected
in me
as I take the oath of office.

In my waking dream
I revive 10 million dead Indians,
make right three centuries of slavery,
heal the scars
of one hundred wars,
pin to the mat
poverty, sickness, injustice,
and whatever else needs whuppin’.

In my waking dream
I reverse Global Warming
reduce overpopulation,
return the dodo, the Stellar sea cow,
the passenger pigeon, the great auk,
the ivory-billed woodpecker, the moa,
from extinction.

In my waking dream
I pull Christ, still living,
off his cross.

“Slow down, brotha!” he says.
“I was about to have my big moment.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I say,
“I’m here now.”

“Stick me back on that damn cross!” he says.
“I’ve got a brand to build.”

“He’s not kidding,” thunders God the Father.
“Jesus Christ!” I say. But who am I to argue?
I nail the skinny sucker right back up there,
and the whole grand guignol unfolds again,
right up to the present moment
in my waking dream.