Editors’ note: This is last of a four-poem set submitted jointly by Justin Evans and Jeff Newberry. We opted to publish one poem on each normal publication day, over the span of a week and a half. Their bio will be included in each day’s installment. We’re also providing links back and forth to each of the poems once this series’ publication has completed.
FOUR EPISTLES (Part 2), Jeff Newberry and Justin Evans (February 7)
FOUR EPISTLES (Part 3), Jeff Newberry and Justin Evans (February 9)
Letter to Newberry: Brexit, Texit, and the New American Migration Dear Jeff: I say let them all go— Texas, the Tea Party, the cult of Donald Trump. Let them all go. It’s not polite, but we both know what part of the past they yearn for, which past they think separates us from half a century of godlessness. We all have friends who call this a Christian Nation in one breath then shout at the tops of their lungs how we are losing our religion in the next. We all know some version of the Texas mother who shot her two daughters dead in the street ever fearful of Obama coming to take away her guns. I am not saying we don’t know honorable conservatives, but it seems their voices have been lost, swallowed by the anger of a white America gullible enough to believe one black President is enough to sound the death knell to the American experiment. It’s generational, like anti-vaccine advocates. You won’t hear your grandparents talking about the dangers of inoculations, nor anyone who saw firsthand the ravages of Polio or Diphtheria. Most of the people who hold Reagan up as a Neo-Con Messiah never went more than a day without food or saw desperation in their parents. Sometimes you have to separate the wheat from the chaff, let the wind, winnow the husk from the harvest. Walt Whitman asked if the elder races had stopped, ended their lessons. I add to this my own resolute question: At what point do we stop marching forward? If they are not interested in taking the next step, then perhaps we should let them leave, saving us the burden they are and the limits of their myopia. All the best, Justin.