If I was a betting man, and I ain't,
say like Enrico Fermi who gave odds
among his fellow droll, assembled gods,
that Trinity's boom would The House paint,
then I'd make book: a fucked-up year's ahead:
some bim-bam-boom: Trump elected again,
the worst of all evils, hater of men:
Biden: or another Kennedy's dead.
Personally, I'd like to see Putin
in drag dragged through Moscow's streets stark naked,
old Roman circus days - shake and bake it!
Wouldn't that be dang bang rootin tootin?
O, the world has lost its way and its will,
and it's 40 years beyond The Big Chill.
