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Plethoric with symbolism, straining History snaps the rusty bonds of hypocrisy, and fleetingly flies to its intended rendezvous with Destiny.

An American president rooted with genes from man's mother Pangea, intones a melody derived from the pen of a repentant purveyor of Pangea's sons.

In eulogistic mood, from one of the purveyor's ports, whence began the initial stroke to sustain his putrid practice, that president invokes the spirit of Marc Antony's funeral oration.

Instead of a moribund Julius Caesar's quizzical moan: Et tu...?

Nine departed souls intone: Follow through!

Elsewhere, at breakneck speed, too-long restrained Lady Justice adjusts her scale, thereby vindicating the otherwise engaged eulogist -- whose improbable ascension to head a quixotic nation had been fraught with venom and ignominious dismissal.

Those detractors, confused and dismayed, vigorously must attempt to keep pace with the now-freed founding documents -- whose progress they so tenaciously attempted to retard -- or otherwise take their place with the other invalids of history.

America, America,

Quite slow has been thy pace.

Today, of a sudden, America,

Thy speed is now thy grace.

Obama Mother Emanuel

Curtis W. Long

Curtis W. Long

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