judicial temperament

McGahn's been charged to straitly circumscribe
the witness list, if not what each can say.
It isn't "tampering" where there's no bribe;
a clever lawyer tends to get his way.
The Powell memo called for stealth attacks
that--when it leaked--were damned as really crass.
But once confirmed, he needn't face such facts,
ensconced for life within his ruling class.
The due regard that Garland never saw
McConnell lends this one appearance sake.
Although the date's for him to set by law
he'll pause to salve the conscience of Jeff Flake.
We've bought a week in which the FBI's
investigation documents Brett's lies.

mind, unbounded

Sir Isaac Newton knew no Trinity
was rooted in his bible in the Greek
but-lest his books be all deemed heresy--
such things he'd write about, but dared not speak.
Instead, he made the cosmos correspond
to God's own tabernacle for His ark
that He'd called forth, by word, not magic wand
a box of Light, carved out of primal Dark.
Imputing physics to the ancient text
its Bronze Age authors had no way to know
strange, pious physicist to retroject
his insights to an era long ago.
Great alchemist! The last of all his kind
transmuted not base metals, but the mind.

simplistic

Brett Kavanaugh's the darling of the Right
who'll holler "murder!" if one would abort
a brain-dead fetus ere it see the light.
A monstrous misfit for our highest court.
When life begins' not easy to define;
philosophers--if wholly honest--can't
show legislators any clear bright line,
since most conceptions fail, and don't implant.
Each pregnant teen must live with the effects
of getting raped, and bear the public shame.
But Brett smirks at his own coercive sex;
in his world, only victims carry blame.
McConnell's fealty to Trump's complete
if he delivers one more stolen seat.

the company he keeps

Trump's sympathetic to Brett Kavanaugh
their ethics are alike, and bigly loose.
Too White to toe the line, or heed the law,
they'd normalize gross sexual abuse.
McConnell wants this rushed without delay
as if--if we knew more--we'd turn him down.
The guy who snatched Obama's seat away
now wants to rubber-stamp this arrant clown.
A lifetime tenure on our highest bench
must be denied if what he's said's untrue.
The penalty for ravishing a wench
could shoot him down in flames  (hashtag #MeToo)
This vote--for Susan Collins--looms up big
as women everywhere reject this pig.

our son of a bitch

Obama urged Mubarak to just go
Egyptians long for freedom, same as us.
But Clinton feared to lay a strongman low
and threw Mohammed Morsi 'neath the bus.
el-Sisi butchers Muslims in the square,
but Saudis back him as a force for good
as if barbarity were somehow fair
when they're confronted with the Brotherhood.
A Clinton never fails to compromise
when wealthy donors want to bend a rule;
Riyadh's not challenged on its grossest lies
when policy's enacted by their tool.
Our empty hymns to Liberty fall flat
when we embrace convenient autocrats.

flippity flopper

Paul Manafort's in terror of the mob
Ukrainians, like Russians, want him dead.
To rub him out would be a trifling job
to grab the million rubles on his head.
Defenestration looks like it would hurt
and death by alpha particles seems grim.
Before he spills team Mueller all the dirt,
it's likely they'll be coming after him.
Protective custody may be the deal
to ward off Kremlin poison, gun, and knife.
Where no morality moved him to squeal
the lowlife nonetheless pleads for his life.
That prison cell's his best bet to stay safe
'til plastic surgeons grant him a new face.

nuanced

Patrocles decomposes on the bed
while Hector sprawls, unspoiling on the floor.
Old Priam pleads both sides should tend their dead;
there's time enough next week for waging war.
Two enemies can bond in mingled grief.
The hero's human here, far from the fight.
His whole career--'though glorious--is brief
he plays the gracious host for this one night.
The poet's sympathy's half with the Greeks
but Troy's defenders tug his heartstrings, too.
The lifeblood that from either body leaks
bears no simplistic label "red" or "blue".
The text that educated Greece's youth
bows less to jingoism than to Truth.

bad blood

To cheat the gods, Laomedon showed nerve
if not the sharpest wit of all his clan.
In time, immortals get what they deserve;
their legal system's not like that of Man.
The Trojans thought Earthshaker's on their side,

but gods who'd laid their stone walls, course, by course
would laugh and wash their hands when gates swung wide
to gather in his votive wooden horse.
Vicissitudes tectonic, or of war
recycle masonry back to the ground.
Prime real-estate, where pirates row ashore
invites the proudest gates to tumble down.
One deity for horses, 'quakes, and sea
finds humor in the ambiguity.

cherchez la femme

Fair Helen ran off with some pretty boy,
invoking Aphrodite as excuse.
The repercussions hit not her, but Troy;
breached hospitality offended Zeus.
Three goddesses believe the prize was theirs,
but hormone-addled Paris got to pick.
His nobler brother Hector tastes despair
because the little putz thinks with his dick.
Did Menelaos really earn his fame?
He's still remembered only 'cause she split;
it's as the cuckold that we know his name.
That shoe's forever his, because it fit.
Had Homer picked, Athena would have won.
But wisdom literature's not much fun.

cat-fight!

The Stormy Daniels book is selling big
the dirt she's dishing doesn't hide in code.
No subtle ornaments adorn this pig;
Trump's genitals look like a wizened toad.
The reader burns to see what's coming next,
as each delusion's punctured, scene by scene.
There's only disappointment in the sex;
there's nothing in this guy that isn't mean.
Debating on his level's not an art
they teach at Princeton, or the finer schools.
His "eloquence" is that of a good fart:
all noise, without the substance of a stool.
McMaster's exposé's still years away.
But Stormy basks in sunshine, and makes hay.

"on good behavior"

McConnell thought he'd rush Brett Kavanaugh
through Senate confirmation in a day.
But shoddy vetting missed a grievous flaw,
and those who've known him have a lot to say.
The Jesuits aspired to educate
young Brett to value women for their thoughts.
But fratboys desperate to get a date
were satisfied with intimacies bought.
A judge insisting children go to term
with pregnancies incurred against their will
may yet find that he has a lot to learn
to satisfy the ladies on the Hill.
Murkowski/Collins hold a winning hand
if they dare to insist this ass gets canned.

new! improved!

Melania's cheekbones don't seem to fit
where they've been grafted on Kellyanne's face.
Her surgeon's working on some scary shit
transplanting features wholly out of place.
He thinks himself the Chosen One of God,
a new Picasso for the latter days
disdainful that you'd call his artwork "odd"
as Kellyanne embarks her cubist phase.
Next month, a shorter nose, a fuller lip...
a laundry list of things to dart and tuck
kaleidoscopic visage--acid trip!
But under the facade, the brains still suck.
Titanium implants? Or carbon mesh?
What lies beneath her painted, undead flesh?

sun rise, sun set II

The greybeard kneels to clasp Achilles' knee
proposing both sides pause to tend their dead.
A vision, what the hero'll never be;
old age won't thin the tresses on his head.
Diminished to out-live his therapon,
his destiny's fulfilled with Hector's fall.
There's Neoptolemus when he'll be gone
to devastate the city and its wall.
Undying Thetis grieves for such a son
who'll never get to hold his  little boy.
She's done with mortals' trifles "lost" or "won"
that grandson joins him on the pyre of Troy.
He'll die without a grey hair, or a scar
eclipsing--briefly--every other star.

sun rise, sun set

The greybeard kneels to clasp Achilles' knee
proposing both sides pause to tend their dead.
A vision, what the hero'll never be;
old age won't thin the tresses on his head.
Diminished to out-live his therapon,
his destiny's fulfilled with Hector's fall.
There's Neoptolemus when he'll be gone
to devastate the city and its wall.
Undying Thetis grieves for such a son
who'll never get to hold his  little boy.
Committed now, to see his project done,
that child's dispatched to seal the fate of Troy.
He'll die without a grey hair, or a scar
eclipsing--briefly--every other star.

charlatan

This hurricane we're warned is bigly wet;
the Carolinas brace to take the blow.
Pat Robertson insists he'll turn this threat,
but those who aren't stupid pack, and go.
Delusional, to think he'd stop a storm
but true believers lavish him with cash.
The powers that no man of woman born
could bring to bear, they want to think are Pat's.
Coercing scripture to mean what he'd please;
 for years, his exegeses have seemed odd.
but now he wants his donors on their knees;
he really seems to think himself a god.
The bible says such warlocks must not live
but some think heaven's theirs, if they just give.

omens

Thus hurricane, we're warned, its bigly wet
whole towns will flood, some houses will be lost.
Insurers have already made that bet;
no individual need bear that cost.
But actuaries only see the past
not all things are as constant as they'd seem.
Our climate's changing, and it's changing fast.
Tomorrow's not regressing towards the mean.
South Florida's subsiding in the sea
and Bangladesh will be too wet for rice.
Saskatchewan may grow more grapes than wheat;
but that's conjectural--we're casting dice.
The Fermi paradox has been explained;
they've each flushed their own biomes down the drain.

Agon III

Sing muse, of Achilleus and his ire
the only male immune to Helen's charm.
She's fair, but not the type to light his fire
and Paris never did him any harm.
No oath obliged him in the Greeks' dispute; 
to court the Spartan heiress, he's too young.
The kin of Ganymede are smokin' cute

and like their  famous horses, nobly hung.
Nine years, the booty dangled out of reach
the oak hulls rot, the linen sails lie furled.
Our hero with his boyfriend strolls the beach
'til Agamemnon gives him back the girl.
The Western Canon's greatest epic text
makes no pretense that War's not twin to Sex.

lying to congress

Chuck Schumer won't confirm Brett Kavanaugh,
but seems withal unbothered by the lies.
It's not for him to execute the law;
veracity's not his to verify.
He'll talk for days (when donors write the bill)
but hardly seems engaged in this dispute.
So much the creature of Capitol Hill
without the filibuster, he's half mute.
The stolen research Democrats amassed
got Pryor's nomination through, unchecked
but as we're learning more about Brett's past,
his case seems one the Senate should reject.
The Checks and Balances our Founders wrought
presumed the opposition won't be bought.

advice and consent

Brett Kavanaugh broke oath; he testified
he'd had no knowledge of judge Pryor's case.
But now we learn not only had  he lied;
the cover-up was done to save his face.
The monarchists we cast off long ago
went underground, but never more than slept
resurgent now, and primed to run the show
since Democrats have proven so inept.
Executive amok would own the Court
the vision not of Madison, but Koch
a system we fought proudly to export, 
in Washington is manifestly broke.
Unstable as a fireside powder-keg,
no useful stool can balance on one leg.

the man in full

Laomedon stiffed gods who'd built his wall
wise fool! to think he'd never have to pay;
his heirs and children wept to see them fall.
Immortals--in due course--will have their way.
Tythonis took a goddess for his wife
and only later realized the truth
it's burdensome to have eternal life
unless that contract grants unending youth.
Odysseus kept Circe at arm's-length
although for years the twain had shared a bed.
Penelope's bond showed the greater strength;
this hero's heart's at home, where he first wed.
The first exultant in Man's mortal lot
the heir of Sisyphos knows what he's not.

polypoietes

'Twixt Scylla and Charybdis forced to steer
back home to Ithaka from such a trip
there's no way to stay altogether clear,
but sacrificing some, he saved the ship.
Another day, the boat herself went down
all hands were lost, 'though he himself was saved.
Athena wouldn't let her man-toy drown
but crewmen met an early wat'ry grave.
So proud to stand between his sire and son
against the suitors' vengeful next of kin!
At home, at peace, this hero's battle's won.
War's epic ends with this irenic hymn.
The only victor of the siege of Troy
came home to loving wife, and now-grown boy.

twin tales

Two heroes meet where only one can live
Achilles cut down Hector in his prime,
then asks old Priam that he should forgive
outrages when he wasn't of sound mind.
Two heroes meet, one's purely bred of man,
the other's only half of mortal stuff.
Each glorious in doing what he can,
unbending, 'though their lots in life be tough.
Two heroes meet, but only one goes home.
Achilles' tomb's uncounted leagues from Greece.
While Hector nestles in his natal loam
Peleides in exile knows no peace.
Two heroes  meet, their epic's twelve nights long
undimmed by death while still we sing their song.

shake-down

He paid his premiums, and exercised
and trusted his insurer had his back,
not dreaming what he'd purchased was a lie
until his all-but-fatal heart attack.
He'd never read his policy's last clause--
the fine-print all alone comprised a book--
Insurers' lobbyists write their own laws
ensuring that they're never on the hook.
But someone wanting no part of this mess
erased the last two zeros on this job.
The racketeers know if they get bad press,
they could be prosecuted as a mob.
A bill that can be slashed to placate scribes
invites abuse by those who'd chase a bribe.