Newspapers describe -- in terrifying terms -- the assault that took place yesterday in our nation's Capitol.
We invite you to share comments in your words or those from poets and prose writers that speak to your sentiments.
Here is a poem by Walt Whitman written in 1860. It originally bore the title "A Past Presidentiad, and one to come also."
"To the States, To Identify the 16th, 17th, or 18th Presidentiad"
By Walt Whitman
Why reclining, interrogating? why myself and all drowsing?
What deepening twilight — scum floating atop of the waters,
Who are they as bats and night-dogs askant in the capitol?
What a filthy Presidentiad! (O South, your torrid suns! O North, your arctic freezings!)
Are those really Congressmen? are those the great Judges? is that the President?
Then I will sleep awhile yet, for I see that these States sleep, for reasons;
(With gathering murk, with muttering thunder and lambent shoots we all duly awake,
South, North, East, West, inland and seaboard, we will surely awake.)
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