Journal of the Shutdown: Day 16
A neighbor hammered on my bunker door this morning, telling me that the Republicans were refusing to pay for her birthcontrol. I dogged the hatch tighter.
Turning and turning in the widening partisanship,
The leaders cannot hear the lobbyists;
Budgets fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere Republicans are loosed upon the world,
Website-dimmed healthcare is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of national parks is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of governing intensity.
Surely some fluke is at hand;
Surely birth control funding is at hand.
Birth Control Funding! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Cadueus
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with pharmacist body and a cash register head,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is selling over the counter options, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant tidewater birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty days of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough deal, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Washington to be born?