With days left at twelve-ninety-nine
Sara Huckabee’s doing just fine.
Her lame-ass excuses
For Trump’s Twitter abuses
Spew nicely along her party’s line.
With days left at twelve-ninety-eight
The EPA’s doing just great!
Pruitt wants to besmirch
Many years of research
And flood the world with more debate.
With days left at twelve-ninety-seven,
The madness continues to leaven.
Our American fate
Is not to be Great,
But to be All-Star Wrestling Heaven.
Listen my children, and I’ll turn you on
To the Presidential run of Don the Con
On the sixteenth of June in Twenty-fifteen,
Hardly a soul was on the scene
Who didn’t predict he’d soon be gone.
But he told the people what they wanted to hear,
Leaving sixteen candidates in his wake
As he spun his message of doubt and fear.
He was more than some TV Game Show flake.
Leaning more to FOX than NBC,
The “Values Voters” were his key,
As against “Lyin’ Hillary” he sounded alarms
Through bankrupt cities and repossessed farms,
And those who cherish their right to bear arms.
The Saturday Night Live Baldwin impressions,
The lurid Left’s “Fake News” confessions,
His daily phobic tweets and rants,
And grabbing hands down some chick’s pants.
So many moments, lacking grace
Would leave one lesser on his face,
But only strengthened Donald’s base.
With each outburst, they loved this jerk
Much more than Hillary Clinton’s smirk
Meanwhile, the trusty Christian Right
Saw his ascendance as part of The Plan
They heard the message beyond the man.
To right the wrongs of Barrack Obama,
To end this evil Muslim night,
And dump the “Lib-tards” in the can,
To end this Socialistic drama.
And gradually, he climbed the polls
With promises to make us great.
And through each gaffe, he’d boldly skate,
Obscuring specifics of his goals.
The Left could only shake their fists and bitch.
So powerful are Tax Breaks for the Rich,
And dreams of bringing decent jobs back home –
These castles built on sand and made of foam.
And so that night – and sadly unexpected:
November 8th we saw him get elected,
And in seclusion, Hillary popped a stitch.
A flurry of days as things proceed –
A global presence marred by lack of flair,
Attempted murder of Obamacare,
Our schools run by one who can barely read,
Our Highest Court to serve the moneyed few,
The Democrats who know not what to do,
The middle-class and poor still get the screw.
Our air and water no longer a priority,
And penalties for questioning authority,
While hired leaders cling to their seniority.
Is this the end of our Democracy?
No room for compromise or true debate,
A chasm filled by ever-blinding hate,
While ruled by some damned corporate theocracy.
The chapters yet to come have not been written.
But still, too many good souls have been bitten
By despair – so I say dear friends, stand tall
For how quickly the mightiest can fall.
This land – our land – not just for the elite.
This story need not end in our defeat.
From largest state to smallest neighborhood,
Seek those who choose to serve the common good.
And through these days of Don the Con
Especially on this Fourth of our July
Don’t wring your hands and wonder why,
For in twelve-ninety-six, he will be gone.
This Country’s weathered storms before
And fought off those who’d rig the score.
For borne on night winds of the Past
Through all our history to the last,
In hours of darkness, peril and need,
We have the power to see him gone,
And all those driven by their greed –
And end the ride of Don the Con.
They seem to have nihilist goals,
And post from their ass, without souls.
All “normies” beware.
Those Kek boys don’t care
That the comments section’s run now by trolls.
A dictator named Kim Jong Un
Had himself some ICBM fun.
If this nut should blow it,
Before we all know it,
We’ll find World War Three has begun.
To G20 in Hamburg he flew,
Where world leaders do what they do:
Kow-tow to investors,
Shoot at protestors,
And drink like a fish til they’re through.
Whatever the goals,
What ever the aims,
Hamburg does not deserve
In sadness, watched upon the global stage,
While leaders chat, one sits in isolation.
A clueless metaphor. A once great nation
Gets left-behind as others turn the page.
But one discussion went on long and seriously
They spoke of life and trade and rigged elections
And marveled at the size of their erections,
But not of how one’s critics die mysteriously.
And now our future in this tiny hand
That cannot comprehend the matrix of our now,
No interest in the why, much less the how,
But still applauded through our shallow land.
How could we fall so far to see this as an answer
A flaming boil above a deeper cancer.
Of politics, it’s easy to tire.
There’s no bottom line to the mire.
So today we lament
All the money not spent
By the feds: California’s on fire!
Those voter fraud numbers are small.
Insignificant, as I recall.
But we are seeing surges
Of unwarranted purges,
And ballots not counted at all.
To serve Clinton dark-gossip sifters,
Don Jr. met with Russian “gifters”.
Are campaigns are the season
For collusion and treason?
So much for this family of grifters.
The summer daze of Trump seem never ending.
Each headline, post, and inch of Breaking News.
So which jaw-dropping scandal do you choose
While missing out on issues not as trending.
Like constant slashing of the Corporate Tax,
And dimming of our rights in subtle stages,
The crippling stagnation of our wages,
The Super Rich’s weight upon our backs.
Discrimination based on sex and race,
Our schools sadly bereft of arts and science
A State not wanting freedom, but compliance,
And Robber Barons eying cyberspace
This never-ending Clown Car’s poised to steal.
So keep your eye on who is at the wheel.
A protest in New York has arisin
Sending actor James Cromwell to prison.
Courageous, his backing
The war against fracking –
A destruction-for-profit decision.
The proposed Senate Health Bill’s a laugh!
Who cares if it hurts the riff-raff.
Those boys on The Hill
Showed their faith in the bill
By exempting themselves and their staff.
One friend says he’s tried
Counting up all who’ve died
Chasing Putin in the Russian nation.
While another’s decided
To count those “suicided”
On the trail of the Clinton Foundation.
Despite the loud noises from backers,
Trump’s numbers are low, say poll trackers.
But beyond his approval,
I’d prefer the removal
Of many Congressional slackers.
Despite all the wheel and deal,
There’s still no Replace and Repeal.
Does it cut too much stuff
Or not go far enough.
While we beg and borrow, they steal.
The Senator named John McCain
Had a tumor removed from his brain.
There’s much that he gave,
And he served – proud and brave.
May good health and strength he regain.
In comfort, I can sit and shake my head
In awe of how one serves a greater cause.
A six-year capture serves to give one pause.
In those boots, I would surely end up dead.
Enduring still, so shattered but not broken,
Refusing still, “Humanitarian Release”
But in his time, returning to find peace.
How many hells remaining yet unspoken.
A just cause found within an unjust war.
Perhaps a Hero forged in this survival.
Only to find one’s Presidential rival
Who gamely mocked all that had come before.
And now another foe to squarely face.
And God to shield you in Her warm embrace.
Politics is the thorniest garden.
Makes the sunniest optimist harden.
But there’s few things akin to
Donald Trump looking into
The ways he could grant his own pardon.
There’s a New Mouth for President Mango,
Causing Spicer to leave with a bang-oh.
Welcome to the show.
What the world wants to know:
Scaramouch, can you dance the Fandango?
Either Democrats are masochistic
Or Republicans are solipsistic.
But this sort of philandering
Called partisan gerrymandering
Lets a minority control a district.
A tragedy in San Antone.
An action we cannot condone.
I would so build a wall,
And behind it, put all
Those who traffic, and leave them. Alone.
One thing McCain said caught me fast:
“Stop listening to loudmouth bombast”
I thought it quite swell
That he damned them to hell.
Still, he voted “debate” and it passed.
The House IT staffer Awan
To Pakistan almost was gone.
But at Dulles, how odd,
Got arrested for fraud.
Do tell, what the hell’s going on.
With politics, I know I’m green.
All those deals made behind the scene.
I just have some doubt
Any good can come out
Of amending a bill you ain’t seen.
Collins, Murkowski, McCain.
They did not vote yes or abstain,
But rejected the deal
Called “skinny repeal”.
Once again, Trumpcare goes down the drain.
As promised he proceeds to drain the swamp.
A muddy puddle of his own creation.
A hateful show, but none can change the station.
Reality. A heads-a-rollin’ romp.
The Loyal Staff arrives, but leaves so soon.
To serve a King impossible to please
With zealotry, incompetence, or sleaze
Our future’s history becomes a sad cartoon.
While Gossip News leaves precious truths redacted,
And posturing replaces true discourses,
What policies were moved by unseen forces,
What things were taken while we were distracted.
When all D.C. gets thrown beneath the bus,
Who will be left to truly speak for us.
To police, Donald Trump says, “Use force!”
Knock some heads without feeling remorse!
That’s a bit of a swerve
From “to protect and serve”
But it’s making us great, so of course!
My lovely wife thinks I am neat.
Together, we two are complete.
But it must be confessed
That despite all my best,
With Sam Shepard, I could never compete.