Wall of platitudes
Brick by brick, each day it grows —
it's made of attitudes —
it's not a wall with Mexico,
but one of platitudes.
Across the land it angles slant,
then circles all around,
invisible, a wall of cant,
unseen, but still profound.
If good fences make good neighbors,
(I read it in a poem),
and if we make fit barriers
of mesh or steel or stone,
who benefits from walls of words?
Who gains from this divide?
Just those whose talk is undeterred,
by what they cannot hide:
though point by point it may well grow
to heights historical! —
the only wall with Mexico
will be rhetorical.