Fletcher, Namkai-Meche, and Best.
Standing up against the poison that divides,
Pushed back against the bloodless, bleeding tides,
Now, one forever scarred and two forever rest.
A vector on a train, their fate
with Christian – my, what’s in a name –
A soul at war, a hatred to proclaim,
An offer to his father god of hate.
This is the now for some – the time to kill
To subjugate or slay the demon other
Ignoring truth: we share a common mother
And yet in death I am your brother still.
Some look away. Some run. Some freeze or stare.
I lie awake and ask, “if I were there…?”
Screw the global village.
It’s time to pillage.
It appears that The President’s stiffin’
The comedian Kathy Griffin.
Her career may be dead
Over some tasteless head.
He can dish, but not take, the riffin’.
From terror to government swindling,
Respect for life seems to be dwindling.
Must corruption and hate
Determine our fate?
We have got to be more than just kindling.
Farage and his ilk are the champs
As the response to terror up-ramps.
This Brexit romancer
Suggests that the answer
Is putting all Arabs in camps.
One thousand three hundred and twenty-four
Days until the next inauguration.
Occurrences defy imagination
In numbers that are hard for keeping score.
Despite our best, Democracy is tired
And throwing tantrums on and off the stage
Expressions new of violence and rage
A TV Boss who’s catchphrase is “you’re fired”.
And shouting, always shouting, drowning out
Compassion, conversation and debate
While headlines scream the newest scenes of hate
And spew a mix of fear, half-truths and doubt.
Within this noise I long to hear the sound
Of Babel’s Tower tumbling to the ground.
I don’t mean to drag out that bit again,
But glyphosate’s a deadly carcinogen.
Sold safety’s illusion.
What an upstanding corporate citizen!
Alone, two men faced off in a green room.
And so began a tense and subtle dance.
One claims to favor truth at every chance.
The other: loyalty. But then, to what and whom?
And what in fact did we expect to hear.
That certain players warrant a free ride?
That Russian agents snuck a man inside?
That Sessions and McConnell both are queer?
Let’s hear from he who led the FBI.
And how they’d work a hostile foreign power.
But will the guilty ever truly cower,
And will we ever know the real why.
With history as our guide, we get the sense
That politics abides no innocence.
Did Comey throw Trump in the tank?
Is Flynn tied to some Russian bank?
During CNN’s tizzy,
Our Congress was busy
Carving up what was left of Dodd-Frank.
The lobbyists pulled off a trick,
Knowing just what makes our congress tick.
They’ve helped tip the scale:
Banks are too big to fail,
But the rest are poor to get sick.
Union-bustin’, poor-bashin’ Paul Ryan
Says the president’s green, but he’s tryin’
“He’s just new to this”
Ach! My ass he can kiss!
His sorry excuse I ain’t buyin’.
Politics has many fine pupils
Schooled in dollars and euros and rubles.
First, you’re up, sittin’ pretty,
While your “friends” feed the kitty
Then you ask how you lost all your scruples.
As your morning progresses, please note:
A Health Care Bill soon gets a vote.
Crafted behind our backs,
The compassion it lacks
Will hurt as it’s crammed down our throats.
On Monday, stalwart men around a table
Reflected clear the strangeness of our days
A shameless shower of loyalty and praise
Heaped on this bully child they enable.
They sing about his “record-setting pace”
And one by one, they baldly kiss his ring
To wipe away all trace of Comey’s sting
And daring not to speak truth to his face.
For just beyond the tweeting midnight rambles
Our health, our land, our rights all ebb away
A country-wide assault of truth-decay
A sad, corrupted government in shambles.
And Priebus says how blessed he is to serve.
Speed up my friend. A lot. Here comes the curve.
So many deaths. So little time to grieve.
The fire, the lead, the anger. Then, the blood.
Has what was once the trickle become the flood.
What innocent will be the next to leave.
I look for justice served and come up blank.
Does one deserve to die for what one thinks?
Does one have rights to kill because life stinks?
Is this to what collectively we’ve sank.
My thoughts and prayers are weary now. No more.
I long to raise my hands in gratitude.
But cannot shake this pessimistic attitude
For what tomorrow’s headlines have in store.
Each breath we take affords us more to give.
Til otherwise informed, let’s fiercely live.
I have some friends who think he’s a creep,
While others praise one of Christ’s sheep.
But hero or cur, one thing is for sure –
Right now, he’s one lawyer’d up Veep.
It’s hard to say what is so great
About House Bill sixteen-two-eight.
Behind the scenes wrangling
Leaves poor and sick dangling
While the lucky and healthy can skate.
A Milwaukee sheriff named Clarke
Made his prisons no walk in the park.
Sporting badges and patches,
A man died down his hatches,
And he’s harder on you if you’re dark.
But despite his hard line resume
At the DHS he will not play.
Has a shadow been cast
By some skeletons past?
At the moment, we really can’t say.
For whispers where
They hide their bones,
There’s no one quite like
Ex-NSA head Flynn, it seems,
Sold surveillance to evil regimes.
To keep under duress
Dissidents and the press.
Cash sings while democracy screams.
A Senate head by name of Mitch
Knew his purpose was serving the rich.
So his Medicaid cuts
Kicked the sick and poor’s butts.
That heartless old son of a bitch.
The reins of power, once touched, are fiercely grasped.
And who among us still could walk away,
Despite the harm we’d do if we should stay.
Who’d dare admit the sacred prime has passed.
And when the plan becomes but to remain,
How many righteous goals must we so sadly see go,
The sacrifice of dreams eclipsed by ego.
The glory of the past can be the future’s bane.
A bloodless passing of the crown? How rare indeed.
How many allies lost for fear of youth
When coveting the throne eclipses truth,
When truth above all else is what we need.
Let go the reins, but stay to guide and teach,
Or see The House forever out of reach.
When Healthcare from Hell was contested,
And deep Medicaid cuts were protested.
The disabled, the scared,
The poor and impaired,
Were simply dragged off and arrested.
One July 6th in ol’ Falcon Heights,
A policeman had two in his sights.
The events that transpired –
The seven shots fired
Wouldn’t happen if those two were whites.
But NRA words of support
Are pretty much coming up short.
What was legally carried
Led to one getting buried,
And another acquitted in court.
Our President proposed something grand:
For new immigrants, welfare is banned.
What a fine, forward plan!
(Someone please tell the man
That it’s already law of the land).
We don’t know what cuts are in store,
But we know who the profits are for.
You don’t need to quote it.
It’s the people who wrote it
Who have the “meanness” at their core.
At briefings now,
It seems that Sean
Is scared to turn
The cameras on.
On the one thousand
A countdown til the next Administration.
While headlines favor gossip over issues,
And for each victim we break out the tissues,
The real powers work to shape our nation.
Above all else, preserve the status quo:
To squeeze more from the lower 99.
This will not change should 45 resign.
(A truth both sides along the aisle know)
All up in arms o’er some offensive tweet.
While softly, bills appear upon the docket
With crafty laws, designed to pick our pocket
By Red and Blue, complicit in deceit.
Each day, solutions seem more out of range.
A far cry from Obama’s “Hope and Change”
While today’s morning news headlines greets
Us with outrage for Donald Trump tweets.
We’d best save our fires
For the crooks and the liars
Who take up Congressional seats.