I really like the way this poem situates voting in the everyday (the kitchen table, the mailbox) and the abstract (the commons, art, thoughts), the philosophical and the practical (the school board).
yes I too walk aroundconsidering my intractable problemscomplaining it's too latefor more sonataseverything is already too beautifulmusic and anger won't save us
and I read "it's too late for more sonatas" and think he means "art won't save us from the coming catastrophe" but he continues "everything is already too beautiful" and then says it won't save us -
Is there too much beauty, nothing more to be said?
But here's this poem, beautiful and also persuasive, narrative and also aspirational.