Saturday Poetry October 2

The Reassurer by Wendell Berry

A people in the throes of national prosperity, who

breathe poisoned air, drink poisoned water, eat

poisoned food,

who take poisoned medicines to heal them of the poisons
that they breathe, drink, and eat,
such a people crave the further poison of official
reassurance.  It is not logical,
but it is understandable, perhaps, that they adore
their President who tells them that all is well,
all is better than ever. 
The President reassures the farmer and his wife who
have exhausted their farm to pay for it, and have
have exhausted themselves to pay for it,
and have not paid for it, and have gone bankrupt for
the sake of the free market, foreign trade, and the
prosperity of corporations;
he consoles the Navahos, who have been exiled from their
place of exile, because the poor land contained
something required for the national prosperity
after all;
he consoles the young woman dying if cancer caused by a 
substance used in the normal course of national
prosperity to make apples redder;
he consoles the couples in the Kentucky coal fields, who
sit watching TV in their mobile home on the mud of
the floor of a mined-out strip mine;
from his smile they understand that the fortunate have
a right to their fortunes, that the unfortunate have
a right to their misfortunes, and that these are
Equal rights. 
The President smiles with the disarming smile of a man
who has seen God, and found Him a true American,
not overbearingly smart. 
The President reassures the Chairman of the Board of the
Humane Health for Profit Corporation of America,
who knows in his replaceable heart that health, if
it came, would bring financial ruin;
he reassures the Chairman of the Board of the Victory
and Honor for Profit Corporation of America, who
has been wakened in the night by a dream of the
calamity of peace.