The Prices of Freedom

John Rutherford

May 19, 2022

I never thought it was possible

that I, forever moving leftwards

would agree with Rand Paul on anything.

Forty billion dollars head to Ukraine,

is this the price the President said

we had to pay for freedom?

Some friends of mine, mothers all,

share recipes they got from their grandmothers,

baby formula in the old days, powdered milk,

karo syrup, a little water, warmed in a pot

because there’s none for sale. 

One plant in Michigan shuts down

and scalpers are on Facebook,

one can each for fifty dollars,

is this the price the President said

we had to pay for freedom?

A friend of mine lost his job

behind the counter of a convenience store

because he couldn’t afford the gas to get there,

$4.35 a gallon, so his car sits rusting on the lawn.

The Fed raises interest rates and from my bedroom

I can hear the bankers salivate, their lust for green

dripping, and I struggle to make rent and think

is this the price the President said

we had to pay for freedom?

John Rutherford is a poet writing in Beaumont, Texas. Since 2018 he has been an employee in the Department of English at Lamar University. Since 2014, he has followed the events in Ukraine.