O How We Long for You

O how we long for you,
Mister Obama.
Our nation is reeling from
Grave palpitations--
The crazies get crazier,
The cornflakes get flakier,
The spinpots get spacier,
All led by that vizier
Of full-tilt delusion.
The past always clings
To fool-scraps of glory;
But no matter how strong
Our own brand of yearning is,
We should not follow
And blindly allow
Nostalgia to govern us,
For circling the wagons
Will carry us nowhere.
We must draw a bead on
The lambent horizon,
To seek and preach openness
Come what may.