Who the heck is Elizabeth Alexander and who the heck said she could write?
At least her poem was so horribly bad it was the highlight of an equally horribly flubbed and pretentious inaugural day that was the worst on record.
The real problem is the fact that no on in the MSM has the courage to admit any of this.
This is pure – porta-potty fodder:
“…Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.
Some live by “Love thy neighbor as thy self.”
Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.
What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.
In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp — praise song for walking forward in that light.”