Ode to the F-35: The Grinch that Stole Vermont

John Reuwer / Seven Days

Like the Grinch that stole Christmas,
this plane steals my dreams
of a pristine Vermont
with its forests and streams.

I dream of clean air
while these planes spit and spout,
fif teen tons of carbon
each hour they’re out.

I dream of clean water
while PFAS fills our streams,
from the Guard’s fear of fire
from those ghastly machines.

I long for the quiet

to work or relax
but the rumble of jets
breaks my calm like an axe.

My ears hurt and ring,
as my windows do rattle
while my viscera shakes
as the Guard plans for battle.

New Americans in town
are shocked by the blast.
like war in their homelands
they thought was long past.

I dream of a world
where schools are for all
where trains are not creaky
and bridges don’t fall.

Speaking of fall…
What if they crash?
Oh, that won’t happen?
Five already are ash!

I long for a country
without lead in its pipes,
where hospitals don’t bankrupt,
and good care stops our gripes.

I long for a country
that seriously takes
pandemics and climate,
for all of our sakes.

 “We can’t build back better –
No money!” sounds sour
when 10 jets cost a billion,
then 400,000 an hour.

Some think that these jets
make the nation secure.
But they can’t fix most troubles,
and that is for sure.

They can’t stop a nuke,
or terrorist attacks
as flying computers
they’re subject to hacks.

Sure there are threats,
some things we abhor.
yet all could be bettered
by things other than war.

I dream of world peace,
especially this season.
These planes are the opposite
beyond all I can reason.

Jobs are important,
their loss would be sad.
But with this kind of money,
far more jobs could be had.

I dream we had voice
to have them or not.
We voted them out,
yet they still are our lot.

So Patrick and Bernie
We are shouting out loud.
Take this awful Grinch from us,
And make us all proud.