no defaulting on this one

Dark sink-holes open wide on the SouthLawn
and Mar-a-Lago. Any fool can tell
it's not hydrology that makes them yawn.
Trump's contract's due; he has a date in Hell.
The privilege that eased his mis-spent youth
taught him contempt for women, maids, and clerks
and anyone too strait to bend the truth
as if the only way to win were work.
To serve the public'd never been his goal
his bid was just a scam to fleece the rich.
But cutting a dumb deal to sell his soul
for all eternity, he's Satan's bitch.
America will once again be great
when Trump's joined Korach in his earthy fate.

egoist in chief

Perceiving Trump's invested in the talks,
Kim preens and struts the role of a nuke-State
humiliating Trump until he balks.
Onlookers strain to tell which one is "great".
As diplomat, our president's unfit
no bound'ry marks what's personal as space
imagined slights provoke a childish fit;
he's less appalled by war, than losing face.
Dire perils each new twitter storm forebodes
as Trump's confabulations wax more wild
who'd trust a nation's nuclear launch-codes
to twitchy, stubby digits of this child?
Yet still, we dare to hope that Singapore
won't nudge us into a Korean war.

twisting in the wind

The world's convulsed as Giuliani flails
explaining what his client must have meant
each version more spectacularly fails
repudiated by his president.
A dozen scaramuccis come and gone
but still, hizzoner's in the Donald's pay
ambitious timeline to sustain the con
when neither knows what either's gonna say.
A legal team like no one's ever seen
we scarcely meet the latest to get hired
the man-behind-the curtain's smoke machine
sells them as geniuses--until they're fired.
NewYork--they say's--the toughest of tough towns.
But this year, all it's sending us are clowns.

postage stamp

A Winter wardrobe strews the sun-scorched sage
while specks of Dacron dance the bright Spring air.
His club-mates mark his spot, but not his rage.
Their lamb for Wanda, girt in underwear,
has been accepted! Their day's just begun.
they've miles to log as lift and luck allow
before the glory of the driving sun
is blotted out by towers of rumbling cloud.
The driver drops some beers, but dares not wait;
his radio can't reach past line-of-sight.
For dawdling to pack up, he'll marinate
in bitterness until sometime tonight.
By breakfast, as the exploits get retold
he'll feign to sympathize that they got cold.

dead enders

The Dinosaur Committee holds the purse;
Progressives have to beg what they won't steal.
Our midterm prospect's good, but trending worse
'cause only Sanders stands for the NewDeal.
The status-quo well serves the OnePercent;
before we vote, they've long since stacked the deck.
Co-owners of a broken government
two parties dialing the same Rolodex.
There're hearths for old dogs dreaming of their prime
when teeth and eyes were bright, and limbs were fast.
But appetites mutate with changing time;
what had gleamed bright fades into the dim past.
If we're to dominate Novembers races
the Democrats can't run the same old faces.

Flynn's man inside

Mike Flynn put Cohen-Watnick in to spy
on colleagues who comprise the NSC.
But now the patron's toast, one wonders why
the protégé should draw a salary.
The bulk of what he garnered's surely dross
but in the hay, there  may be kompromat
pertaining to his boss, or boss' boss;
team Mueller'd like to know what Ezra's got.
Is it still "fruit of the forbidden tree"
if you can show a parallel construct?
Flynn must have figured, when he copped a plea
the last to find his tongue's the perp who's fucked.
A staff of seventeen must pick, and choose
but only fools bet Mueller's primed to lose.

blue-shift

Ted Cruz was seated as an irritant
big Red thumb in Obama's Purple eye.
His re-election's not self-evident;
real Texans have sound cause to wonder why.
Two Ivy League degrees say he's a Yank
stray bulldog in their longhorn cavalcade.
A carpetbagger pulling a bad prank
they're not amused by Rafa's masquerade.
First, Alabama jettisoned Roy Moore,
now Texans poise to see the last of Ted
six years of whining get to be a bore
the LoneStar's shifting Blue, that gleamed so Red.
Joe Manchin may still sell his coal-black soul.
But--'til he does--McConnell's lost control.

"Chairman Un" (sic)

Pompeo flubs addressing Chairman Kim
How's his first name the same as his old man's?
This Harvard lawyer's more than slightly dim,
but Kochs--at least--remain his ardent fans.
Machinists fabricating aircraft doors
need more experience, and less degrees.
But now he's getting us into new wars,
there's still no evidence of that JD.
To graduate West Point, first in his class
perhaps he seemed more clever in his youth.
But presently, he seems an arrant ass,
and fails consistently to speak the truth.
Of all the candidates from which to choose,
Trump picked a sycophant who reads no news.

swamp creature

Scott Pruitt's asking donors to endow
a legal fund, accusing the Free Press
of overplaying what he's done, and how
he got the EPA into this mess.
The swamp just fulminates like some dire rash; 
to hide malfeasance, he makes more, and more.
Faux Public Servant, in it for the cash.
Armani suits bedeck a common whore.
In Oklahoma, no one gave a hoot;
one party holds all levers of the State.
Each bureaucrat sold license to pollute,
deriding Feds who'd dare to regulate.
Fond dreams of our Green future come to naught;
the regulator's office has been bought.

out of his depth

The "fucking moron" tossed Obama's deal
expecting he could renegotiate
based on no evidence but his gut-feel
as if his Midas-touch made all things great.
Our allies warned us, he'd be on his own
if he reneged on what Obama'd signed.
New sanctions would be toothless, all alone.
But in his arrogance, he paid no mind.
For Putin, high gas prices mean more gold;
he'll gouge the Poles and Germans while he can.
Trump's sanctions reinforce his stranglehold,
suppressing competition from Iran.
In straits to vex the smoothest diplomat,
a world's entrusted to this preening brat.

Will Rodgers knew

Bharara could be Cuomo's next AG,
unless he's thought to like deBlasio.
This Democratic tragicomedy
could drop the brass ring in the to-and-fro.
The discipline Republicans expect
Pelosi covets in her DINO heart.
But her ideas of whom we should elect
are tearing old allegiances apart.
The egos Madison hoped to enroll
to yoke our servants to the public will
are manifestly so out of control
a hundred factions claim Capitol Hill.
Trump's cronies may have scored an unearned chance
'cause Schneiderman can't keep it in his pants.

regulatory capture

Pompeo's been confirmed as chief, at State
now Haspel thinks she should withdraw her name
lest euphemisms like "interrogate"
let torturers evade their proper blame.
The usual endorsers sing her praise
war-criminals who fear they're  on the hook
if anyone'd let in the light of day
they've never deigned to play it by the book.
The right outsider might redress the flaw
but she's complicit in her agents' acts.
An honest application of the law,
must hang her at their side, on the same facts.
Rogue agency, accountable to none
won't willingly be dragged into the sun.

whip-hand

Melania must know what's going on
to buy security, she married trash.
But now, if she's to cover for her Don,
he's gonna have to cough up big-league cash.
Bank records Giuliani sees he saw
report who paid how much to whom, and when.
To reconcile Trump's actions with the Law,
would take a wizard's legal acumen.
Her pre-nup's primed to renegotiate
for womanizing on her partner's part.
The scandal--if she chose to litigate--
would drive a wooden stake through Trump's tin heart.
Trump's gonna wish he'd stayed where he belonged;
Hell hath no fury like a good wife wronged.

post-truth

Now, Giuliani grants his client lied;
the cash Mike Cohen fronted was a loan.
And structuring those payments failed to hide
the motives for the gag were Donald's own.
A legal team retained in cash, upfront
as if to face a jury of his peers
bizarre extravagance for a "witch-hunt"
Bob Mueller's not the sum of Donald's fears.
Bold victim of his own mendacity
forgets mid-sentence whom he'd meant to trick.
Bald liar with imperfect memory
inevitably steps on his own dick.
Twelve lawyers vowed they'd never* drop his guard.

*until the day Trump's hoist by his petard.

testimony optional

If Rosenstein grants UseImmunity,
then self-incrimination's not a threat.
Still, there's no end to human perfidy; 
it's hard to prove who's  feigning to forget.
Who knows what's in a perpetrator's head?
At best, we'll seize his 'phones, and documents--
and even those, he'd have been wise to shred--
an epistemic fine predicament!
But Mueller's trained to make the small fish squeal;
the last to find his tongue, will eat the loss.
The price of turning down the first plea-deal
may be a prison suite with his ex-boss.
A "prisoners' dilemma" for the books
when most key witnesses are likewise crooks.