Homo Economicus

James Madison deemed war was obsolete;
clean economic suasion would prevail.
King George's navy dealt him brusque defeat;
the best ideas--if premature--still fail.
Joe Biden thinks it's worth another try
to free Ukraine without committing men.
But Putin seized Crimea on the sly
and means to call the self-same play again.
The petro-dollars Putin needs to pay
the out-sized military that supports
bulldozing anyone who's in his way
might stall for years in European court.
A better world, where "losses" are mere cash
needs governments more sober, and less rash.

unprincipled

Joe Manchin holds his president in thrall
and he--in turn's--enthralled to Old King Coal.
'Til Biden's "time for boldness" grows some balls
The other Joe's the Joe who's in control.
Obama'd brought him on to soothe the nerves
of mandarins afraid that CHANGE might come
Content with one more empty show of verve;
as long as all his plans would die, undone.
McConnell's useful fool's content to block
all progress 'til the midterms roll around.
Presuming that just running out the clock
will stash such pipe-dreams six feet in the ground.
For decades, Manchin's threatened he might switch
but still, he's loath to be McConnell's bitch.

impediment

Joe Manchin holds his party by the throat;
without him, Democrats can't claim control.
Regardless how them out-of-staters vote
his personal portfolio's all Coal.
More Green alternatives are all around
and many are already in the field.
Like coal, Joes best when six feet underground
'Til then, he'll dance, but never sign a deal.
This Dickens-era fuel we subsidize
sequesters Carbon since the Earth was young.
Joe Biden--in the name of "compromise"
shows no intent to do what must be done.
The midterms loom, the balance could swing back
still, Biden shows no stomach for attack.

changing fortunes

Great Hector did his best, then turned and ran,
confronting Achilleos in his rage.
Enflamed with grief, he's no mere mortal man;
this demigod's the terror of his age.
This Trojan king's a very Zeus-on-Earth
no less than Agamemnon for the Greeks.
But any soul of wholly mortal birth
against Peleides, is up a creek.
Andromache looks on, atop the wall
and understands that for their toddler son
should he survive at all, it's as a thrall.
One blow means Priam's dynasty's undone.
Her sister-in-law shakes her empty head;
her cuckold king still wants her back in bed.

balcony scene

Young Montague addressed his favorite hand
that soothed his lonesome adolescent nights.
Alone on stage, he's dimly seen to stand
and must exclaim to someone on this light.
Fair Juliet's his winsome second love
although--so far--they hadn't even kissed.
She fit him like his digits fit his glove.
'Til now--like Enkidu--he'd loved his fist.
Doomed liaison across divides of tribe,
or politics, or economic rank
left neither House to boast an heir alive;
twin dynasties as sterile as a wank.
"Butt-soft!" coy cutesy coinage by the Bard
for Romeo's best friend when times were hard.

slipping away

Old moon's on point of getting overrun;
Her orbit's nothing like our spinning pace.
She's barely up when bleached out by the Sun;
We strain to glimpse her unillumined face.
A generation dazzled by bright lights
buys smart-phone apps to track elapsing days.
What had been patent any starry night,
now lies obscured in urban photo-haze.
Celestial clock displays both time, and date,
for those with opportunity to look.
Precise enough that one could navigate;
the heavens were sea-Captain's open book.
One's free to question if it's worth the cost
when so much had been gained, and so much lost.

Or zarua l'tzadik

Eärendil and Elwing brought the jewel
that Feanor'd begrudged when he fled East.
Incensed in Valinor that Valar ruled
while Morgoth ravished Middle-Earth in peace.
Yavanna'd speculated She could mend
with such a boon, the luminescent Trees.
But even should the Ban on Noldor  bend,
She's now implacable to all their pleas.

Supernal glow pre-dating moon and sun

is henceforth only present in the sky.

While heroes'  journey at great peril's done,

their tots are fostered on the other side.
'Til Feänor himself proffers the gems,

not even Valar have clear claim to them.

backwards

In Kabul, Taliban rehung their flag
Assuring females they've nothing to fear
as long as the're accoutred in a bag
and follow men twelve paces to the rear.
For their part, women fly to emigrate
or send their daughters overseas to school.
convinced this government will violate
such promises once it can make the rules.
Two trillion dollars! Not a lot to show
Afghanistan's much like the day we came.
One generation's had the chance to grow
but none--who have resources--will remain.
Another empire packs away its tents
and leaves the place without a government.

the object of desire

Eärendil saw Gondolin destroyed
last bastion of the way life'd been before.
No opportunity to be a boy
as Middle-Earth's configured for more war.
This half-blood princeling grew, and took a bride
with lineage as quirky as his own.
Each, Elvish royalty on mothers' side
and she's the heir to Elu Thingol's throne.
The twain defied the Ban, to bring the Gem
Yavanna'd called for to restore the Trees
of gilt-edged leaves and burnished argent stem.
But she's contemptuous of Noldor pleas.
One nova in the skies of Middle Earth
is all one salvaged silmaril was worth.

maia-a-maia

At terminal velocity, they clashed
the Balrog and the Wizard, undeterred.
The Elvish sword, the many-stranded lash--
What none could watch, the deafest cave troll heard.
Far under Moria, the utmost shaft
that wakened from deep slumber Durin's Bane,
now bore them to the peaks of Aule's craft
Resuming combat in the storm and rain.
The Endless Stair no living dwarf had trod,
persisting only in their griots' rhyme
succumbed to combat of these demi-gods;
it's rubble-shuttered 'til the End of Time.
Tivaldo may land graceful as a cat,
but balrogs hurled from mountaintops, still splat.

fireplay

Two Maiar clash in flame on Durin's span
who hadn't met in Middle-Earth's Third Age.
The fearsome bane of Elf, or Dwarf, or Man,
was unprepared for combat with a mage.
Utumno fell, most balrogs went to ground
disdaining leniency in the far West.
There dozing deep, 'til Durin's folk delved down
insatiable in their mithril quest.
Istari'd played no part in Eru's scheme
as first enunciated long before.
But this old swordsman's tougher than you'd deem
he'll need an entry in Ents' rhymes of lore.
Grey bearer of the Elvish ring of fire
dispatched his foe to the infernal choir.

playing the role

The balrog that contested Durin's span
had slept through the best part of the Third Age.
Proud bane to any dwarf, elf, ent or man
was wholly unprepared to fight a mage.
Olorin--for his part--knew what he faced
debriefing Melian on the far shore
He knew that foes of his own Maia race
survived another generation's war.
Exactly why Iluvatar dispatched
Istari isn't anywhere explained
To Sauron, such might seem a fitting match
a Maia designate as Maia bane.
Earth-rending combat wouldn't mean a thing

except to rear-guard Frodo, and the Ring.

foul air

Olorin hoped a pipe might help him think;
no memory could guide him at this fork.
Some fragrant smoke might purge the evil stink
that couldn't be attributed to orcs.
The caves of trolls had their unwholesome smell
but something worse offends the wizard's sense;
What Pippin wakened in the guardroom's well
predates the coming of the Elves, and ents.
Each option leads to leagues of lampless gloom
without a stick of fuel to catch a spark.
If anyone's to get through Khazad Dum
one mis-step could be parlous in the dark.
Staunch friend and guide to dwarf, man, hobbit, elf
shows no regard for safeguarding himself.

heirlooms

"As weregild for my father, I'll take that"
Quoth Beren as he clasped Barahir's hand
from orcs struck dumb with wonder as they sat;
his motives were too much to understand.
That ring of Felagund can open doors;
An oath like Finrod swore, no Elf forgets;
'though Melian'd foreseen the coming wars,
to Thingol, mortals seemed mere useless pets.
The Oath of Feanor grants no respite
'though Elu Thingol never took the vow,
Dark Elves, no less than Noldor of the Light
are compassed in its mischief, anyhow.
Late-comers play our part in Eru's scheme
however frail--to Eldar eyes--we seem.

choices

Olorin hoped a pipe might help him think;
no memory could guide him at this fork.
Some fragrant smoke might purge the evil stink
that couldn't be attributed to orcs.
The caves of trolls had their unwholesome smell
but something darker stings the wizard's sense;
What Pippin wakened in the guardroom's well
predates the sun, and moon, and lands, and Ents.
The mithril shirt that stopped a orc-lord's lance
that might have drilled a boar, or buffalo
against a balrog wouldn't stand a chance;
a maia--once gone bad's--an awful foe.
The friend and guide to dwarf, man, hobbit, elf
shows no regard for safeguarding himself.

ka-chinng!

From Glorfindel, the Nazgul wheeled and fled.
A Noldo incandescent in his rage,
this balrog's bane, too puissant to stay dead,
was taking zero crap in his old age.
Defending Gondolin, he'd made his name
with Mandos, who was quick to send him back.
Each balrog slayer gets another game;
the deaths of elves are less than white and black.
Olorin knew this history full well;
his balrog wasn't gonna slip away.
Tenaciously embracing as they fell
the flame of Udun's bearer had to pay.
They're Hell to slay with battle-ax, or sword,
but killing balrogs wins a life's reward.

arcana

The IFF Celembrimbor devised

to keep the riffraff out of Khazad Dum,
in later days, defied the great and wise
who sought security in starless gloom.
Olorin knew the author by repute;
the son of Curufin left reams of lore.
But dwelling still in Bliss through this world's youth;
he'd never had to enter through this door.
Too late to sway Isildur from his fate
great Gandalf came to midwife the Fourth Age.
But first, at Moria, this mute West Gate
posed quite a barrier to one grey mage.
While archers shoot; while swordsmen slash, and hack
Mithrandir slew his Balrog, and came back.

the real thing

Wolf-Sauron met the Hound of Valinor;
sham canine pitted 'gainst the Jaws of Steel.
Despite the form, he's plastic at the core,
while Huan--Platonically--is quite surreal.
By special dispensation, a pure Form--
sent hither to the lands of Middle earth--
for newfoundland or whippet set the norm,
however one would measure a dog's worth.
A Craftsman schooled in Aule's atelier,
ambitious for dominion over Men,
where others have a spine, there's only clay,
to fashion a new face each day again.
Faux wolf shifts shape to flee on vampire wings
unable to contend with the real thing.

pidyon shvuyim

Across Afghanistan swirls the debate:
"How much would Biden pay to cap this mess?"
without a hostage left to face his fate,
like Gary Powers sweating for the Press.
Ask Gorbachev; he's lived this in his turn;
the Pashtuns mean to rule Pashtunistan.
The infidel can go to Hell and burn;
their loyalty's to Allah, and their clan.
Marines would risk Courts Martial to bring home
a brother whether he's alive or dead.
As loyal as the Pashtuns to their own
they've sworn their oaths, and meant each word they've said.
What Biden pays sub-rosa, you won't hear
it's not worth one more soldier over there.

reconditioned

Poseidon took sweet Pelops by the arm,
and Hermes held his luscious slow-braised head.
Hephaistos undid Tantalus' harm
to prep this dainty for the Sea god's bed.
Let Zeus snatch playthings from the walls of Troy;
Mycenae has enough for most gods' need.
Be that a blushing maid, or smooth-cheeked boy,
 no cause to shop abroad for Ganymede.
Cassandra told Apollo to get lost;
she'd rather dally with some Asian youth.
Integrity like hers bears a grave cost;
she wins no kudos for unwelcome truth.
When paths of gods and mortals intersect
our lives seem just their smorgasbord of sex.

the team

Of Ents Yavanna sang, and Ents there were
'though dormant, until Durin rose and walked.
Green guardians of all that's dear to Her,
but--at that time--they neither sang, nor talked.
Age-long, their thoughts were only for themselves
and sessile Olvar, sprung from Aule's soil.
The gift of language came to them through elves,
and for that debt, they're everlasting loyal.
Olorin showed up late in Eru's plan,
inserted as Dark Powers spread and grew.
As shepherd not to trees, but mortal man,
he guided much that others were to do.
'Though Hobbits joined the narrative quite late
on "Gandalf's pets" depends all Arda's fate.

Joe/Joe

Joe Biden cedes the filibuster fight
To Manchin without firing a first shot.
In West Virginia, "Democrats" lean Right,
forgetting unions won them all they've got.
The 40-hour work-week, Medicare,
and NewDeal policies on countless things,
drove back the squalor, shedding new light where
mine owners owned their lives, and ruled like kings.
Unspoken goes the threat that Joe might switch;
McConnell'd gloat to claim him as his own!
From modest roots to corporations' bitch,
Joe's never thought a thought to call his own.
The Chair of Energy's in debt to Coal
and quite enjoys this feeling of control.

Hisarlik

Carl Blegen figured out they'd dug too far;
this stone-age village can't be fabled Troy.
The House of Priam long predates the war
when Helen ran off with her Asian boy.
A modern archaeologist's appalled;
he'd do it differently were he a mensch.
The Schliemann crew demolished storied walls;
defenses gods had built, smashed for a trench.
Four levels up, they found the storage bins
securing siege-time rations in hewn stone.
The gold he photographed Sophia in
was found somewhere; location still unknown.
A site like Troy's gets built, and built again
more valuable than battlements, or men.

used and rebuilt

Poseidon took sweet Pelops by the arm,
and Hermes held his luscious slow-braised head.
Hephaistos undid Tantalus' harm
to prep this dainty for the Sea god's bed.
Let Zeus snatch playthings from the walls of Troy;
Mycenae has enough for most gods' need.
Be that a blushing maid, or smooth-cheeked boy,
no cause to shop abroad for Ganymede.
Cassandra told Apollo to get lost;
she'd rather dally with some Asian youth.
Integrity like hers bears a grave cost;
she wins no kudos for unwelcome truth.
When paths of gods and mortals intersect
our lives seem just their smorgasbord of sex.

in Man's image

Apollo was rebuffed; he took it ill.
Cassandra's meat to Klytemnestra's ax.
The prophecies she speaks are swift fulfilled,
but no one heeds such inconvenient facts.

By contrast, Zeus takes anyone he wants--
except fleet Thetis, whom his own wife guards.
The girls he meets on drunken Earth-side jaunts,

must know a pregnancy is in the cards.
Fair Aphrodite chafes at wedded life;

Hephaistos doesn't feature in her dreams.
If only Ares'd taken her as wife...

but they're full siblings, flesh, and blood, and genes.
Olympians feel sure they rule as kings,

but Eros plays the lot of them on strings.

pseudoscience

Karl Popper irked bad Marxists who resent
The 'Pseudoscience' label they'd well earned.
Uncomprehending everything he'd meant
But pretty sure that--somehow--they'd been burned.
When data contradict their sacred texts
they piously insist the facts ain't right;
what tends to falsify, they just reject.
Where others would rethink, they're prone to fight.
The Jungians--if anything--fare worse
No myth he'd once found useful could be bad!
With Freudians, they bear Karl Popper's curse.
And--is it rude to note?--their seer was mad.
Believers swallow scripture as 'just so'
where scientists weigh what it means to know.

all that groks is God

James Hutton saw "no prospect of an end";
ongoing processes appeared the norm.
Sufficient pressures trained brute stone to bend
as documented in its earthly form.
Charles Darwin sails, and speculates, and looks
for mechanisms that might unify
like what he's reading in Charles Lyell's books
of how the seas sank low, and alps rose high.
No teleology, no foreknown ends
just algorithms chugging day on day;
each novel form upon the last depends.
What's disadvantageous gets swept away.
Enlightenment! From rocks, to apes, to genes
reformulated God as the Machine.

piracy II

the pirate raid that Lukashenko staged
won approbation from his Kremlin boss.
All Europe slammed the borders in outrage.
But Putin scores this triumph worth that cost.
Now, landlocked Belorussians must look East
For food, for fuel, or any form of Trade.
Still, no one's sanctioning the Russian beast
who underwrote the scheme, and gladly paid.
The dream of Europe unified's a threat
to one who craves the empire of a czar
But only Moscow's eager to forget
the horrors of a continent at war.
Where Biden sees a world in need of change,
Vlad Putin seems increasingly deranged.

Banditry

the pirate raid that Lukashenko staged
won approbation from his Kremlin boss.
All Europe slammed the borders in outrage.
But Putin scores this triumph worth that cost.
Now, landlocked Belorussians must look East
For food, for fuel, or any form of Trade.
Still, no one's sanctioning the Russian beast
who underwrote the scheme, and gladly paid.
The dream of Europe unified's a threat
to one who craves the empire of a czar
But only Moscow's eager to forget
the horrors of a continent at war.

Where Biden sees a planet to be saved
Vlad Putin seems increasingly depraved.

Chauvin

Kentucky blames the victim every time
and jurors must pretend this makes some sense.
Your shattered skull is witness to your crime
when officers resort to violence.
'Til Rodney King, such video was rare;
we're told cops' testimony'd earned our trust.

White voters just assumed police must care,
and had good motives when then made a bust.
When ev'ry murder's broadcast to our 'phones

it takes an effort staunchly to not see
the crimes are ours, not officers' alone.
Our fundamental right must be to be.
Keith Ellison assures us laws can hold
if our Executive is staunch, and bold.

Florida politics

Matt Gaetz discovered girls a little late;
his high-school years were spent with dolls, and toys.
When headlines blare "That Loser Got a Date"
his colleagues still presume that meant with boys.
Like Foley, Gaetz was smitten with a page
who copied documents, and scored good pot.
Untroubled that the lad was half his age
these later Humberts find pubescence "hot".

Without consent, relations are a crime;

each State enumerates who can't, or can.
Transporting juveniles across State lines,
or out of country violates that ban.
When even Trump disdains to take his calls

the prosecution's got Matt by the balls.

It's about time

The moon of Nisan ripens in the sky,
A dusty mirror showing us our sun.
A parting glance at one more year gone by,
with opportunities now gone and done.
And then to dwindle, ceding back the Night,
To stars that bleach the shadows she'd have cast,
contributing their dimmed, red-shifted light
originating eons in the past.
A festival of freedom, pent indoors

by yet a latest plague in the old mold.
While we retell the ten that went before
as if we'd lived through what transpired of old.
An opportunity shared to reflect
on what has gone before, and what comes next.

Helen II

The king of Sparta bored his trophy wife
Who ditched him for a smooth-cheeked Asian lad.
There followed twenty years of grief, and strife
that wreaked destruction on her boytoy's dad.
Peleides was moved to wrath, in turn;
a lesser man'd made off with his due prize.
For such a slight, Acheans' ships must burn
'til Agamemnon would apologize.
Fair Aphrodite earned the poet's scorn
his heroes should respond to something higher.
But from the sundry lands where they'd been born
more than sailed home would ride the soldiers' pyre.
Hermione gave more cause for civic pride;

her husband kept her duly satisfied.

Better

The senator who'd preached austerity
like Herbert Hoover arguing with Keynes,
belatedly, embraces sanity,
and government that feels a nation's pains.
Joe'd never been the brightest in his class,
and sometimes failed to credit others' words.
But he looks brilliant after such an ass
whose lies were often patently absurd.
His cabinet boasts experts in their fields,
'though most are cozy with the way things are.
Don't look to Biden for a new NewDeal;
He'll contemplate some  CHANGE--but not too far.

Liz Warren's acolytes contribute plans
intent on raising up a better man.

passages

Pristine white landscapes, stark in ice and snow
grow messy as the weather turns to mud.
It's necessary as the seasons flow;
The skiing can't be prime as fruit trees bud.
I'm not so trim myself as once I was;
The abs that once stood taut, now lurk within.
My chin bears shrubberies, where once was fuzz,
and everywhere I'm wearing too much skin.
The caryatid crushed beneath her stone
that Heinlein wrote about so movingly,
looks different now her fate's more like my own;
old texts transformed by our maturity.
My muddy, battered boots dry in the sun;
another metamorphosis, begun.

hands down

When cuttlefish can out-perform your pet
in problem-solving, and in self-control
Some want to question which of them gets et
and which enjoys the snug domestic role.
Domestication only fits the few
who understand a social hierarchy
The rest, we're prone to stir fry, bake, or stew;
We're picky in our hospitality.
This season, chordates seem to dominate
'though dinosaurs succumbed, we muddled on
But roll those dice again, a different fate
This time, a mollusc entry might have won.
Contingent evolution favored spines
but something else will rule, another time.

Dirty Joe

Joe Manchin raised his daughter to look strong
and profit from connections when she can.
Contemptuous that nepotism's wrong;
In all their kin, you'll find no honest man.
As senate chair, he's proud to wield control

of what we'll tax, and what we'll subsidize

Predictably, his answer's always "coal!"

And anyone who'd catch him cheating, lies!

The scrutiny he'd studied to avert

when he loomed big in West Virginia's pool

flares bright, now all the planet's on alert;

he'll face the spotlight, if he means to rule.
The millions Heather Bresch took home in pay
highlight more questions that won't go away.

bickering

As long as Trump's on stage, McConnell's stuck
the party's not obedient to him.
But Marjorie Greene doesn't give a fuck
she has no principle beyond Trump's whim.
The WallStreetJournal sees it's a dead-end
they can't keep Trump and take back Congress, too.
The gibberish the paper can't defend
betrayed no vision what we ought to do.
Democracy presumes that--as adults--
We'd weigh the public good above our own.
That's challenged hard when demagogues and cults
Pretend to know what's best, and they alone.
No platform, and no Healthplan left behind
lends guidance to a party with no mind.

Messy Divorce

When Rupert Murdoch cedes Trump's cause is lost
Republicans may want to lend an ear.
The scam they've played incurs an awful cost;
as marks catch on, the reckoning draws near.
A party founded by disgruntled Whigs
to fight for Abolition, and Men's Rights
increasingly's been commandeered by pigs
contemptuous of any who're not white.
Those Whigs had dominated in their day
the Oval Office bears their portraits, still.
But with Zach Taylor, their sway passed away.
They'd lost their purchase on the people's will.
Like twice before, Trump's marriage hits the rocks
Melania's on deck; but first, there's Fox.

A JURY OF HIS PEERS

Trump's called his seventh string to take the field
without a cogent story one might tell.
There's video attesting to what's real;
this jury'd peered within the Gates of Hell.
The baying of the rabble at the gate
evoked the guillotine, and Paris past.
But politicians must adjudicate;
they won't be rigorous, and won't be fast.
Since Michael Cohen walked and washed his hands,
attorneys pass in waves, as in a dream.
Which ones resigned, and which of them got canned
is strictly need-to-know, on Trumpty's "team".
Strange process, with no gesture towards voir-dire
The outcome's independent of what's clear.

Exhorting his own mob to "fight like Hell"
Trump put his signature to all their acts.
His lawyers would be ill-advised to dwell
on anything as damning as the facts.

Instead, they maunder on about his "rights"
an argument that's specious on its face.
They blow a lot of smoke, but shed no light;

as Dershowitz observed, "they've made no case".

But politics and law both row this boat
as Tribe and Matz make clear to those who've read.
McConnell won't commit to how he'll vote

until he's sure the wounded beast lies dead.
The price of Liberty can't be deferred;

republics are for citizens, not herds.

Greene's day

Post-Trump, McConnell meant to rule the roost
and money'd have to flow Kentucky's way.
But somewhere, half the party's screws shook loose 
He'd lost the leverage for pay-to-play.
The CrossFit dominatrix claims the stage
As loud as Hannity, and twice as wrong.
Mitch looks a brittle corpse at twice her age;
unlike her logic, zealotry runs strong.

'Though even Georgia wants her on a leash
this GOP adores a circus show.
Predictably, she votes to not impeach
until the voice of Jesus tells her so.
'twere rich to grant this party has a soul,
but claws come out as cats contest control.

death throes

McConnell hoped to take the mob in hand
surrendering ring-leaders to the court.
But cultist aren't easy to command;
their leash is long, and turtle-arms are short.

The Milton Friedman faction's now at war
within a party that's become a cult.
The sort of bile they dared not spew before
when some of them presented as adult,

Has made a star of Marjorie T. Greene.
The blondest to insist Trump didn't lose,
she blames an international machine
involving lasers, ballot-fraud, and Jews.
As long as leadership gives such kooks gigs
The GOP's on track to join the Whigs.

despair

To reassure herself that she's still hot
each frantic pick-up butts against the next.
Each night, out clubbing, shaking what she's got
Her need for love's unsatisfied with sex.
Each binge just makes her crave another time
but with another lover, not this one.
Each morning sun reveals another line
and introspection never does get done.
The same old stimulus just can't excite
the oxytocin circuits like before.
Realization's dawning, night by night
that what she needs is different, not more.
No one-night lover can assuage her pain
the way the needle snuggles with her vein.

Fourteenth Amendment

Who gets a seat, Chuck Schumer gets to choose;
our Senate bars sedition from its hall.
He's going nowhere while he bears Ted Cruz,
but it's not clear to all he's got the balls.
The Fourteenth purged Lee's clique from government
ineligible to their dying day.
All senators must know the precedent
once ratified, such bans don't fade away.
What Chuck will do's much less than what he'd like
he tends towards somnolence, more than to haste.
Ted's head should grace our Congress on a pike
an honest Texan ought to hold his place.
Unceasing vigilance is Freedom's cost;

if Schumer waffles here, the moment's lost.

undoing

A president unfit to do the job
empowers those too dumb to disagree.
Instead of experts, he recruits a mob
to overthrow our own society.
The bank reforms bequeathed by FDR
eroded under Reagan, Clinton, Bush...
until we're on the brink of Civil War

as circus freaks attempt a beergut putsch.
McConnell means to rule what may remain
among the wreckage Trump's sedition wrought.
While most--like Whigs--are circling the drain
a remnant can still hope they won't get caught.
The ancient curse may have foreseen Trump's crimes;
We're doomed to live in interesting times.

Sedition

Impeachment time! McConnell's all upset
Republicans may have to take a stand.
This time, the voting public won't forget;
of all their ilk, Murkowski's the best man.
Their oaths of office bound them to defend
the constitution from all enemies.
Push comes to shove, here at the shitshow's end.
Just Cruz and Hawley take it on their knees.

Twin enemies of the Enlightenment
grasp power any sleazy way they can.
This week, they're overthrowing government

because such choices don't belong to Man.
This vulgar gangster they had hoped to use
now makes them squirm, as they're obliged to choose.

Sedition

Eleven senators think they can choose
which bits of constitution they'll obey.
Seditious scoundrels rally to Ted Cruz;
no moral principles get in the way.
Untroubled by the lack of evidence
they peddle both uncertainty and doubt.
Their fealty's complete to Trump and Pence
as if those losers hadn't been thrown out.

Eleven senators moved to secede

in 1861 to keep their slaves

from getting what all citizens would need

preferring that they shut up and behave.

Joe Biden's got a world to fix next week;

Pelosi mustn't seat this Quisling clique.