The orange-faced clown spins rings of folly
in the middle of the circus, lions circling
his dance is off-kilter, face-plant in mud,
not all the money in the world brings honor
instead he’s uncrowned, laughingstock fool,
and we eat popcorn in the stands, cheering
the fall of a circus freak too dumb to rule.
The tyrant falls on their own sword
Poetry rains upon water like prayers
Droplets petal to chyrsanthemum cries
The Emperor has no wit, invisible robe
All the world laughs at kingly falls.
Snowdrops push through the frost
defiant ivory buddings of truth
so too will justice bloom in
America, purity spreading from
the people, washing away the
cold greed of winter men as we
march, protest, spring up fresh
as a song gently plucked on the
strings of resistance, we are the
new elegy of rebellion, we will
bring equality and love to a
nation torn apart, like the
fragrant blooms of February,
thriving in the darkest months.
Today the streets are black with gore
filled with deplorable blood to adore
a lecherous tyrant, the Beast rides high
dark our nation, poisoned the skies.
You ask me why I care, why I fight?
I care for the boy that binds his breasts
only to feel the pain of parent’s disapproval,
the thought that bathrooms are somehow moral
that dating is dangerous and could lead to death.
I care for the young woman who can’t attend college
because her parents slipped silently through Texas
cradle-bound in a train, straight A’s now, she is
everything we could want in an American Dreamer.
I care for the man whose factory shut down
who is jobless, depressed, and lost, outsourced
to foreign shores: still he sings his skills
could craft metallic beauty, yet machines won.
I care for the Iranian grandmother whose hijab
was egged as she was vulnerable, grocery shopping
how she cried in front of her young grandson
thinking this is not the country she came to.
I fight for you, for them, for us.
We will not go silently into the night.
We will rage, rage
against the dying
of the light.
After watching the presidential debate last night for all of ten minutes I went to bed and dreamed of a dystopian wasteland where Republicans under Trump’s lead had declared, with the NRA’s help, Open Hunting Season on Democrats. They were forcing them into Nazi-like work camps, death by firing squads, and good old murder. There were Wanted posters of Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders, society had been abandoned, buildings were decaying, and nuclear radiation was everywhere. Hillary was in hiding and her followers and spies used messenger pigeons to communicate. At the behest of a pigeon, I led a group of liberal rebels at a work camp to escape by night and revolt against our conservative overlords – they tried to burn us alive in the building but a few Millenials survived. We made it to safety across a skiff by the ocean and set out for Hillary’s secret base of Democrats in hiding.
So no, I didn’t watch the debate, but I’m pretty sure Trump is the Orange Antichrist. 😉