This poem first appeared in Morning Star on August 28, 2024.
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Last time Donald ascended the throne we got Covid
for our troubles. Slept in after the Super Bowl
spread gain-of-function throughout the nation. The howl
for and against masks, quarantines! Even Ovid
.
would have had trouble keeping up with variants
metamorphosing like Kafka's ID crisis
(of course, Rilke had crossdressing experience).
Trump said the Chinese did it, and some said Isis.
.
Miracle vaccines appeared like never before,
ol' Warp Speed emergency authorization --
Big Pharma a windfall laughing Fellini whore --
Google protecting against disinformation.
.
Oh sure there were impeachments. Clown shows. Cries of fraud.
Cast-offs from Disney's Aladdin stormed the Bastards
on Jan 6, some say with the help of Russians. (Cod --
cod, what's happened to the industry?). Vast herds
.
Nietzsche warned us about now own democracy.
.
Now Trump, the felon, rises again, Supreme Court
handing him immunity for his sweet revenge
against the sad phony and loser fake cohort
who done him so wrong from the Beltway to Stonehenge.
.
Billionaires are coming out to support Harris,
the way they came out to reconstruct Notre Dame,
offering cash to save the jewel of Paris,
burnt out; investigators still searching for blame.
.
Democracy is like a gothic cathedral
that needs gargoyles to guard against the animists,
the greedy death monsters of end stage capital.
But is Kamala enough to stop fabulists?
I'd prefer Angela Davis and her raised clenched fists.
