We fall and forget more than we once could explain,
Searching for a sign or phrase to remind our hazy brains,
We should beware trumpets bellowing to proclaim,
The arrival to our era’s great error and his killing reign.
Feeble opposing deliberations between factions follow,
Too late come the arguments that anyways fall hollow,
Like disputes to determine whether to continue high or go low.
This quarrelling still serves to churn our divided nation;
Coalescing at the top, cream, to the rest meager rations.
Or does mere greasy sleaze result from these attempts at generation?
What congeals reveals his churlish qualities and nature,
For bad actors and other nastiness cleave to him of low stature;
Like cooked books, emboldened grift, and swollen dreams of rapture.
Let the tax payer watch closely or these folk tales and fantasies
Will have them trusting in a grim mythical growth such as he believes.
Burgers, fries, and the urge to lie are the fare up to ruination’s eve.
Those left who can run or crawl might be stopped by his monumental wall.
But far above, unfettered poisonous clouds pursue the tiny and the tall
Until finally against stone and mortar their frightened flight will whimper and stall.
Cold banks of blowing sand strip the flesh of even those who did command
The coming and going of weapons and drugs and man.
Even things that creep and go bump cannot against this wind stand.
We controlled the lightning and many metal beasts.
Under sand, that, which went as rolling thunder to the east.
Those who remain once belonged among the very least.
Joe's Blog Shack 