January, 2019

How sad our Prez chose not to go
Ring the New in at Mar a Lago.
May he sit on the John
Tweeting out until dawn
To reruns of Guy Lombardo.

The Mitt Romney Wa-Po Op-Ed
Has Trump and his crew seeing red.
Don’t carp and lament
Over Trump’s “Deep Descent”
Just be a “Team Player” instead.


So once again Pelosi takes the gavel,
And true to form, a woman on a mission.
Now Trump can face a real politician
Who’ll help this bully blowhard’s slow unravel.

New faces, new agendas take the floor
As fear and judgement butt against their hopes.
And may, with grace, they quickly learn the ropes
Then show us what Democracy stands for.

So witness this historic swearing in
Tho’ opposition offers mostly swearing.
Now will our man in charge be quite as daring?
Who cares. Now let the oversight begin.

New chapters open now – good luck to all,
Except on getting funding for that wall.


His staff is a hemorrhaging mess.
The government’s shut, more or less.
The market is fallin’
Soon, Mueller comes callin’
And this he calls “too much success”.


As Week Three of The Shutdown Game commences
His Loyal Staffers get a tidy bump
While Furloughed Workers surely root for Trump
Reflecting on the Scope of Consequences.

There’s always money for Collecting Taxes.
But those Food Stamps will prob’ly have to go,
Along with most entitlements. You know,
austerity is such a Noble Practice.

So shut it down for months or even years.
Just sit and hold your breath ‘til we turn blue.
Get Hannity to bark your praise on cue,
And bathe in your supporters’ hollow cheers.

A vigil for the Endgame to begin.
A wall does not protect from rot within.


This frolicking Socialist teen!
Her video dance is obscene!
If we don’t stop this witch
She’ll be taxing the rich
To pay for the New Deal Green!


At the Golden Globes people were waitin’.
The winners were cause for debatin’.
Who would steal the scene:
Lady Gaga or Queen,
Or Christian Bale for his Satan.

(bonus sonnet – no extra charge!)
You can’t impeach someone who’s doing great.
You know that you can’t win in 2020.
Most people say that I’ve accomplished plenty.
Who else could match the winning I create.

I’ve stymied trade and turned the market bear
My cabinet is leaking like a sieve
I slipped our former allies all the shiv,
And championed profit over cleaner air.

For dictators and and despots I’m a sucker.
I know that global warming’s not for real.
I’ve lied, insulted, swore & copped a feel
While shocked when being called a “mother-fuxxer”.

Some find my record dubious, but shucks,
I also filled the courts with right-wing schmucks.


Tonight! Broadcast live from the Oval
The Networks are at Trump’s disposal.
As each falsehood slips
From his gross, pouty lips
I’d rather watch John Bolton yodel.


About this 5.7, tell us please
On what do you base your priorities.
Is this an act that benefits the most,
Or merely satisfies a campaign boast.

Could not that future debt be better spent,
If sent to bolster steel and cement
Of roads and bridges far within our borders,
Or used to fund the costs of doctors’ orders

To help rebuild our broken middle class.
This crisis rests upon your head you ass.
Objective compromise leads to reform
A leader’s tantrum never is the norm.

A wall, with countless fences left to mend.
This shutdown still is no means to an end.


As measured compromise sits on the shelf
Two sides dig in. Intractability.
To test the borders of civility
A government at war against itself.

Both sides entrenched for ever-shifting whys
An image of arm wrest’ling politicians
Their public faces mask private ambitions
While consequences stack up to the skies.

Two narratives collide, their truths in contrast.
A crisis or a crisis made for show
The time of post-truth makes it hard to know.
So Chuck and Nancy’s “No” meets exit bombast.

Eight hundred thousand workers in a freeze.
Each one a National


In the meantime, the suit, Michael Cohen
Will tell Congress what he is knowin’
Of pornstar relations
And Moscow persuasions
While our president’s nose just keeps growin’


From Iowa, Steve King is good
Praising White Western Ways as he should
But he stoops way too low
And his true colors show
When he gets the white sheet and the hood.


Hey Trump, if I may be so bold,
Your shutdown is sure getting old.
With this crisis you made
Workers ain’t getting paid
And our National Parks reek of mold.


How funny that Fake News reporters
See no crisis at all at our borders.
The House passed some Spending
Bills for shutdown ending,
While McConnell just waits for Trump’s orders.


Seven-hundred thirty-six days remain
Until our country’s next inauguration
And still the tantrum shutdown plagues our nation
Eight-hundred thousand workers bear that pain.

While at the White House, Clemson football winners
Are feted by our fast-food fan in-chief
Providing comic photoshop relief
So, let them all eat Happy Meal Dinners.

A trying time of famine and of feast
Of banquets filled with empty calories
Their handy plastic boxes fill our seas
While hungry minds rage on against the beast.

How many ways to shape my little rhymes
To say we live in “interesting times”.


Meanwhile, in Britain, you know
Theresa May has quite a show.
This Brexit excursion’s
The world’s longest version
Of Should I Stay or Should I Go.


So Rudy regrets the confusion,
Never saying there was no collusion.
If there was some, you know,
‘Twas a long time ago,
But it’s just false reporting illusion.


A narcissist, alas, he has no cure
Perhaps tho, for brief times, he’ll rise above
That lack of empathy, and self-fixated love.
The best the rest can do is just endure.

Enabl’rs grease his path and offer traction.
While he sows chaos, fear and competition,
And lying constantly without contrition
No bound’ries to rein in self-serving action.

A lifetime spent mistaking wealth for value
Embracing shallow flattery as love
While doubters and dissenters get the shove.
With just enough charisma there to pal you.

Each tweet, each quote, each headline coming faster.
Not so much clown as some depraved ringmaster.


Today there’s a nationwide crowd.
Standing tall, they’ll be strong, they’ll be loud.
Women there of all kinds
Singing songs, holding signs.
May they all wear their pussy hats proud.


On Saturday, Trump gave his spiel.
“Fund the wall and I’ll keep DACA real”.
A publicity stunt
As he whiffs at a bunt.
What we see here’s the Art of No Deal.


There once was a MAGA Hat Teen.
To an Elder Vet, he appeared mean.
One’s cause to get ired
By what had transpired
Depends on what footage was seen.


O Buzzfeed, what’s this bombshell you’ve reported.
Your shocking news from vetted unnamed sources
Is not the line that Mueller quite endorses.
Is what you say untrue or just distorted.

When accuracy loses out to speed
And wishful thinking trumps the need for fact,
The 5th Estate is that much less intact.
Don’t give us rumor. Truth is what we need.

What Mueller knows he sure ain’t rightly sayin’.
But still, “Not accurate” does not mean “lies”
So BuzzFeed’s boss is standing by his guys,
And with their story, right now, they are stayin’.

A slow and measured pace by a Grand Jury
Breeds more conjecture, frustration, and fury.


Look around at the damage. So much.
The shutdown, the chaos and such.
Like his ventures before,
The outlook is poor.
Donald Trump has Reverse Midas Touch!


State of the Union. Please. How many care.
Beyond that, view the sad state of the world.
Oxfam statistics recently unfurled
Of 26 elite who will not share

How many generations’ prominence
Through them lay claim to half the global wealth
Through nepotism, cunning, strength and stealth
And how do they exert their dominance

In gross and subtle ways we are beholden
From massive debt, to those obscenely poor,
In serving those who’s only want is more.
A never ending quest to gild the golden.

And while they run the systems that deceive us,
We wrestle for the paltry crumbs they leave us.


To some, AOC is a witch.
Gives the Right wing a nasty-ass itch.
She’s a commie for sure
For seeing a cure
In taxing the richest of rich.


So the government’s no longer shut.
Thirty-five days, and for what.
The Donald got bested.
Roger Stone got arrested.
And Ann Coulter’s slapped on the butt.


What else besides “arrested” is ascribed
To he with Richard Nixon on his back
Who’s motto’s but “Accuse! Deny! Attack!”
The life-long “Dirty Trickster”, self-described.

With Manafort, he lobbied unafraid
To represent the bullies of the world,
Was there when Willie Horton was unfurled,
Made Opposition Research stock-in-trade.

He’d threaten or malign those in his path
His methods, truly devious and potent,
Described as copulating with a rodent.
“Get Roger Stone”, pay up, then take a bath.

From Nixon, Reagan, Dole, to Trump it’s clear
The draining of the swamp begins right here.


Beyond the issues and their litmus tests,
There’s much to say for one who knows the game
Who sets you up, then lets you wear the blame.
The dividends experience invests.

Like hardball, chess and blind-man’s bluff combined
Like sausage being made – that’s politics.
And therein lies the problem and the fix.
So back again, she’s not there to be kind.

Beyond the wall, beyond the shutdown show,
Beyond the glaring lack of invitation
To speak to congress and address the nation,
How galling that a woman told you no.

The strategy of bullying the weaker
Did not prepare you well for Madame Speaker.


Howard Schultz took a moment to say
He might run for the White House today.
Just another resplendent
Billionaire “independent”.
Stick with your half-caf iced soy latte.


There once was a Public Utility
Who gouged us without much humility.
They’re now going broke
Leaving fire victim folk
Seeking justice in smoky futility.


Election Day off? Mitch despises it!
A conspiracy’s how he surmises it.
So can we connote
That one’s right to vote
Is O.K. until one exercises it?

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