The headlines can drive one insane.
Some events just bring my heart pain.
So for now I will say
That the good news today
Is to just look outside and see rain.
She’s not genius nor athlete nor bard,
Still, Melania scored a Green Card.
Was her Extraordinary Ability,
Performed with agility,
The skill to turn soft into hard?
The man who wrote Art of the Deal
Starts a tariff trade war over steel.
He says with a grin
“They’re easy to win!”
I swear. Is this guy for real??
At the Gridiron Dinner we learn
That the goal is to singe and not burn.
To take gentle pokes
And make tepid jokes.
I’m sad no one spoke out of turn.
The Oscars: Not boring, not racy.
And our host kept things moving and pace-y.
The laughs were well-seeded.
Time limits were heeded.
And no Weinstein or Lauer or Spacey.
If we don’t want a nation of fools
We must give our teachers the tools.
Not many folks like
Educators on strike.
They need money, not guns, in their schools.
‘Twas yesterday they stood before the Press
To talk about security and trade
Assurances of deals to be made
And how our Donald’s house is not a mess.
Can tariffs be imposed in “loving ways”?
The Swedish leader there expresses doubts.
As Trump, his great accomplishments he touts,
Still doesn’t know the meaning of the phrase.
A question came of Russian meddling finds.
Our leader says we’re studying the caper,
And backing up the voting logs with paper
No word on who is stuffing voter’s minds.
The meeting? A productive one at that.
Trump shook hands with a Social Democrat.
To all of the world’s danger flares,
Donald heaves a big sigh of “who cares?”
In his Ego’s bubble
The most “Stormy” trouble
Concerns his “domestic affairs”.
The head of that Korean nation
Wants to talk nuke demilitarization.
While we wonder why,
Dennis Rodman says “Hi!”,
Keeping tabs on the whole situation.
A broadcasting group named Sinclair
Spews its right-wing screed o’er the air.
It seems they confuse
Propaganda as news,
But the FCC’s head doesn’t care.
Our hollow, corrupt institution
Calls out loudly for a revolution.
A good place to start?
A deep change of heart.
Hist’ry shows guns are not the solution.
When you get a name like Kushner, it’s hard to make a rhyme.
But his story’s making headlines from the New York Post to Time.
A strategist, a publisher, a Real Estate tycoon,
A pimp of in-law influence, perhaps. We’ll all know soon.
For he used some White House meeting rooms to try and cut his deals
Until John Kelly said “Enough!” and brought him to his heels.
The things he knows. The things he’s read. How could he get a clearance.
Perhaps Ivanka’s shapely legs were running interference..
His nepotism, like so much, makes very little sense.
To wield all that influence without experience.
The lad still has his Princely Crown, regardless if it’s merited,
And sure there’s some remaining wealth from all that he’s inherited.
Too bad about that place he bought – no longer worth its bricks
It’s sad Fifth Avenue address comes up as 6 – 6 – 6.
But hey, let’s have some empathy. Who knows what one would do
When you find you have a billion dollar mortgage coming due.
So he hit up the Qataris and he tried to get a loan.
It must have looked impressive calling from a White House phone
When they demurred, he petulantly tried to fix their slaughter.
Ah, the things you get to ask for when you’ve wed the bosses’ daughter
The papers stacked on Mueller’s desk just keep on rising higher
And every day, there seems to be more coals upon the fire.
How sad to see in so few months we’ve gone from ”Yes we Can”
To craven, wanton schemes of this Banana Republican.
This morning, Pompeo’s deployment.
Put Tillerson on unemployment.
He called Trump a moron.
Let’s go get our war on.
Such chaos just serves Trump’s enjoyment.
Before all the TMZ gawking,
Before daily headlines so shocking,
He took us to school,
And made genius cool.
I’m sorry we’ve lost Stephen Hawking.
From Trump U to Taj Mahal slots,
The Donald could sure pick his spots.
So many got burned
Why haven’t we learned:
A leopard does not change his spots.
He lied about trade to Trudeau,
Took credit for Lamb’s winning glow,
And put staff is on notice.
Is always the star of his show.
With Pompeo soon going away,
Here comes Gina Haspel to play.
From the depths she’s arisen
Of that secret Thai prison,
Dominatrix of the CIA.
One year ago and to this very day,
My chronicle of our strange times began.
Events and actions; measures of a man,
A ritual in rhyme, as one might say,
To capture thoughts of humor and despair,
And images of our sad house, divided.
To all who care to read, I have confided –
Agree or disagree, why should we care.
Ripped from the news, assembled then in verse,
These screaming headlines of our daily lives,
Drown out the humble prayer that truth survives.
As “normal” sinks to more and more perverse.
For better or for worse here comes year two.
And in it, I wish health and peace to you.
In intrigue, his cabinet’s mired.
With 2 a.m. tweet-bombs it’s wired.
“Great job!”, “Unbelievable!”
And then bluntly ends with “You’re fired.”
In upper tiers of Government, the pressures can be big.
In fact today, for many, it’s become a part-time gig.
To note this odd phenomenon let’s take a look today
At several Public Servants that we’ve lost along the way.
The first to go was Sally Yates, who back in better times,
Decided to go after those committing Corporate Crimes.
But acting as Attorney G, as good as any man,
She got the axe for she would not enforce the Muslim ban.
Soon after that came Michael Flynn, a General, retired,
Who raised Red Flags when it came out to Russia he was wired.
Advising on Security, he finally got canned,
And later pleaded guilty for his lying on the stand.
The FBI’s James Comey heard his firing on the news.
Perhaps for actions previous, predicting Trump would lose.
Ethics Director Walter Shaub resigned when it came clear
That all the things he stood for just would not be needed here.
Sean Spicer quit the podium before he got the axe.
Perhaps he tired of wrestling with “alternative” “facts”.
Close on his heels Reince Preibus left. He didn’t have the stuff.
For all could see when Trump said “jump”, it wasn’t high enough.
The one that many called “The Mooch”, he came and went quite quickly.
But most of us remember his fine suits that glowed so slickly.
Steve Bannon? Nazi Populist? Well, what more can be said.
He once was Trump’s best buddy, true. But now to Trump, he’s dead.
Sebastian Gorka followed soon, and this walk-out would bring
A final, welcome shut-down to the White House Breitbart Wing.
Tom Price resigned. Good riddance there, for it was clearly shown,
The Health and Human Services he cared for was his own.
The Omarosa moment was tried and then aborted,
And when she left, most angrily, she had to be escorted.
Rob Porter got a bum rap. John Kelly likes the guy.
Abuse? It was an accident. There was no blackened eye.
Just ask Hope Hicks who followed suit. I’m sure that she would say
The two of them get on just fine if he just gets his way.
With Gary Cohn from Goldman-Sachs, you’d think he’d have it made,
But Donald dumped him when he when he wouldn’t play hardball on trade.
No tears were shed for Tillerson when his job went away.
Few State Department staffers liked the guy much anyway.
The FBI’s Andrew McCabe’s the next that I shall mention.
For he’s the one who got the axe one day before his pension.
He served the force for many years, and did so loyally,
But got the axe for being far to close with HRC.
Who’s next to join the roll call of departures and disasters?
The Vegas odds-on favorite is probably McMasters.
What does it take to stay on board?
Perhaps less skill than luck.
Remember who you’re working for,
Say “Yes” and learn to duck.
A billionaire named Robert Mercer
Thought Democracy couldn’t be worser.
Psychographic ad trains
To harvest our brains
And guide where our hand points the cursor.
From US vote manipulations,
To British nerve gas machinations,
Just as was expected
He got re-elected,
And Trump sends his congratulations.
With scandals and rifts by the scores,
And our debts mount like festering sores,
In his tweets yesterday,
All our leader could say
Is that “my data’s bigger than yours”.
With walrus ‘stache and sharply hawkish views,
John Bolton storms again the worldly stage.
And with his trademark diplomatic rage,
The risk that those who work for peace shall lose.
A style that even allies find abrasive,
A disregard for subtler conventions,
A passion for our global interventions.
Now watch us get increasingly invasive.
O Bully Trump, you’ve truly found a kindred
Who’ll serve as your Security Advisor,
As you embrace the stronger, not the wiser
To play the global predator, unhindered.
What sanity, what simple hope can linger
To mollify that itchy trigger finger.