when anarchists rule

The party of dysfunction's dropped the reins;
A nation's business isn't getting done.
Sedition Caucus thinks it's all a game,
with Gingrich coaching them to have such fun.
Our Founding Fathers feared 'democracy'
meant throwing treasure to the witless mob.
It's plain for anyone with eyes to see
we've seated fools, unfit to do the job.
McCarthy and Scalise don't want the role
of roping factions to a common cause.
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold,
when legislatures violate the laws.
"A house divided" Lincoln warned "can't stand"
Our proud republic's built on such loose sand.

millenialist

Mike Johnson sees a fire he wants to stoke
by slashing revenues that make wheels turn.
As Speaker of the House, this guy's a joke;
he only took the job to watch it burn.
The greenest Speaker since McKinley's day,
knows nothing of how funds are raised, or spent.
So sure the dice must fall big donors' way,
his bogus "offset" wouldn't save a cent.
Christ's kingdom's all he really cares about;
he'd just sojourning in the tawdry life.
His bags are packed, he's jonesing to get out
and "devil take the hindmost"(or his wife).
As sure as Lot that none of it's his fault
as Rapture looms, he'll do without the salt.

vayera

God tested Avraham; those files are sealed;
We're free to speculate on the result.
For cities on the Plain, he'd wheel and deal
but for his own, won't protest, nor consult.
For Muslims, the prime virtue's to submit,
but Jews object where some consent, and nod.
This episode's the hardest one to fit
for one who'd been so intimate with God.
Poor Yitzhak bore the scars throughout his life
of trauma we can never understand.
A surrogate must chastely woo his wife
unbound, but still strait-bounded by the Land.
The sagest can feel lost without a guide
through texts with which we can't be satisfied

White smoke

The greenest Speaker in a hundred years
reliant on his masters for the rules
The sum of Founding Fathers' darkest fears
"The People's House" entrusted to such tools.
"Young Earth Creationism " might make sense
to one as stupid as the MAGA mob.
Mike Johnson led the chants to "hang Mike Pence"
Exquisitely ill-suited to the job.
This Putin fanboy, hostile to Ukraine
would cut our allies off without a thought.
Without the prospect of some private gain
he's only "honest" in that he "stays bought".
If Bannon's hyper-partisans have won,
be certain nothing useful"s getting done.

scary clowns

Republicans can't govern their own ranks
and don't deliver on the deals they've made.
Now, Democrats look better to big banks
expecting service from the whores they've paid.
Pelosi's Congress got our business done;
her caucus salivated to her bell.
While Gingrich might believe this clown-show's fun,
'Dysfunction!' as a brand's a bitch to sell.
Hakeem looks statesmen-like with outstretched hand,
exceptional, where all we hear is guile.
But still, this GOP can't name a man
secure enough to reach across the aisle.
Our Founding Fathers fighting for self-rule,
had no idea we'd elevate such fools.

Gym Jordan

Gym Jordan masqueraded as adult
to go unchallenged in the Rally's noise.
High-placed lieutenant in the MAGA cult
was only in it for the Nazi boys
The tiki torches! And the leather pants!
Like wrestlers' singlets got some Old World flair.
He'd "Coach" the lot of 'em, to strut and prance
like Hitlerjuengen at the Munich faire.
Behind closed doors, his caucus has its doubts
he lacks a presidential sheen and tone.
They won't explore what rumors are about,

but some of them have grandsons of their own.
Like Hastert rotting in his furnished cell
one more Republican books space in Hell.

"I'm not affiliated with any organized political party"

The gavel slipped through Jordan's spit-slick fist
despite his threats, and posturing, and noise.
His kind of politician won't be missed
by colleagues, staffers, nor by college boys.
Pelosi wielded power with more grace,
despite a margin every but as fine.
No flying monkeys spitting in one's face;
the party check-book kept her troops in line.
Republicans can't guess who'll step up next;
their donors need a photogenic tool 
without the taint of surreptitious sex.
They're more agnostic on the "Hastert rule".
"A house divided" Lincoln warned "can't stand"
but no one in this circus has a plan.

A House Divided

A nation's business isn't getting done
as Jordan holds his party by the throat.
It's fair to say a Democrat has won;
Hakeem took the plurality of votes.
Jim Jordan seems unint'rested what's fair;
Compulsively, he doubled down his bets.
Support for his quixotic bid ain't there;
he's tallied everyone who'll bend to threats.
Big donors have no faith Jim'd do their work
they need a tool who'll "win through compromise".
"The people's house", held hostage by this jerk
needs leadership that won't just terrorize.
Like Haman, fifty cubits off the ground,
Republicans string up their fallen clowns.

tissue of lies

"concealing assets" Giuliani's warned
"could be felonious" she emphasized.
Instructions from the bench are thick with scorn;
her honor's had her fill--and more--of lies.
Trump's never one to keep one set of books
his valuations rise and fall at whim.
An enterprise of flim-flam men, and crooks
whose factual mistakes all favor him.
Trump's legal team keep lawyers of their own
The system groans, o'erburdened with delay.
Each trusting he'll get blood out of a stone
A fool could see; they're never getting paid.
A former prosecutor, turned to crime
with no cards left, can only play for time.

Where there are no cops

The Germans wagered Russia would behave,
as long as revenue flowed from the West.
Comparative Advantage, gained through Trade;
Enlightened actors striving towards the'best'.
But Putin harbors atavistic traits;
He thirsts for glory, like some Czar of old,
as if he'll be a new Kath'rine the Great.
A legacy of conquests, not just gold.
James Madison'd self-fooled this way before;
The need for troops is only slowly learned.
Embarrassing to find ourselves at war
and Washington DC so rudely burned.
Kant's "Endless Peace" won't get here on its own
'til each concedes we're none of us alone.

Pellenor

The breaking dawn lights silver tree on black
that lady Arwen'd wrought in mithril thread.
Lord Aragorn, with legions at his back
rides into battle, 'though his army's dead.
As Theoden gave up his final breath,
king Eomer sweeps up the pennon green.
Rohirrim roared in unison for ''Death!"
Their blood is high, their lances long, and keen.
The final die's cast at the Crack of Doom
by Gollum in his deathgrip on the Ring.
But such maneuvers need the sort of room
that's only purchased with the deaths of kings.
Great warriors and small, show each their worth
in Tolkien's epic tales of MiddleEarth.

Gingrich's legacy

Republicans, in utter disarray,
can't run the House they paid so much to buy.
McCarthy's out, and means to stay away;
sedition's caucus needs another guy.
Gym Jordan never fucked those boys--he claims
nor covered up the dozen counts of rape.
But we remember Hastert said the same
despite the evidence preserved on tape.
The Kremlin wagered no one would defend
Ukrainians against the Russian blitz.
Big bags of rubles spent to buy a friend
had aimed at more, but only got these six.
As moribund as Whigs at Lincoln's peak
the GOP can't find a tool to Speak.

leadership

McCarthy's out; he doesn't want the job
and who comes next, the wisest can't descry.
Abe Lincoln's party's crumbled to a mob,
intent on bringing down whoever's high.
Newt Gingrich loves a circus; this is fun!
Paralysis had always been his plan.
The nation's business isn't getting done,
as coalitions melt like wave-swept sand.
Bill Clinton's re-election should have shown
Obstruction's party's apt to take the hit.
Sham crises are on them, and them alone
and voters have lost patience with their shit.
While Trump's at large, Republicans can't win,
but no one's got the balls to rein him in.

the IT guy

He tantalized Jack Smith with just the tip,
but Trumpty got it roughly to the hilt.
Rewards diminish for the last to flip;
Taveras won't partake in Donald's guilt.
'Though testimony's sometimes been suborned
Surveillance tapes are rarely misconstrued.
Destroying evidence is Donald's norm;
this time, historians agree, he's screwed.
Too often, politics are played as sport;
Americans root blindly for "their team".
But revelations day by day in court
show Lincoln's party tearing at the seam.
Roy Cohn groomed Donnie twelve ways to obstruct.
But now Roy's dead; his protégé is fucked.

Big head, little. head

 Old Priam didn't need another son;
his fiftieth was sent to tend the flocks.
While Hector learned how City States get run,
young Paris strained to sort his sheep from rocks.
A wiser man'd have dodged when trouble loomed
Three goddesses, each known to nurse a grudge!
But Paris chose, and sealed his city's doom.
The preening imbecile liked playing judge.
What Helen saw in him, it's hard to say
she'd chosen Menelaus, long before.
but Aphrodite'd snatched her wits away
committing the Aegean world to war.
Heroic epic sings the fall of Troy
but edits out the hormone-addled boy.

fame

Had Menelaus satisfied the wife
who'd chosen him from all the lords of Greece,
his generation might have skipped the strife,
and frittered lives away in boring peace.
Had Paris died, or--better--not been born,
catastrophe need not have smitten Troy.
The Spartan King would not have earned those horns
from some perfidious young sailor boy.
Had Agamemnon been less insecure,
Achilles would have kept his trophy girl.
They'd be forgotten; nothing would endure
to edify the Hellenistic world.
But stars aligned, and Homer found his theme:
the Western Canon's oldest fever-dream.

generation gap

Immortal Thetis can't have aged a day
since Peleus first claimed her for his bed.
Her first-born's flesh had mouldered into clay,
before she would concede that he lay dead.
Mortality's a "gift" in Tolkien's eyes
to never weary of the tolling years.
A sacred thing, to love what has to die;
to season feasts of pleasure with hot tears.
The immortality Achilles won
was not the sort a mother'd hoped to share.
His glory glows as long as songs are sung,
but she prefers he'd left one heir, one Spare.
Fleet-footed sea-nymph brooding in her fjord
know all too much of mortals, and their wars.

values

Sing, Goddess of the man-destroying wrath
Peleides unloaded on his liege.
'Though Aphrodite'd set them on this path,
Her brother Ares revels in this siege.
When Agamemnon seized his better's girl
he gave offense, no less than Priam's son.
For Homer's audience, in Homer's world,
one had to know what simply isn't done.
Exquisite Helen only dimly grasps
the carnage men inflicted in her name.
Whole worlds pre-empted for a piece of ass,
while paltry few won literary fame.
Penelope's the only worthy prize;
the poet's insight's clear, despite blind eyes.

Testing, 1 2 3 testing...

"That woman" Sarah snarled "has got to go!"
and Avraham's bewildered at the switch.
As he'd been told to do, he'd done just so.
No man alive could satisfy this bitch.
God rolled the eyes he hasn't strictly got
commiserating with his favorite Jew.
"It's pointless talking while her wrath burns hot
for now, just as she says, you'd better do".
One final test before his trial's done
if one so elevated might rise higher.
Please lay your only one beloved son
to elevate on an impromptu pyre.
Each year, we struggle somehow sense to make
of this pericope, that's still opaque.

legacy

King William died in awkward circumstance;
his squires despoiled the corpse of any worth.
No coffin could be found in all of France,
to fit the English monarch's regal girth.
Enteric fauna took their tranche as well
before a fitting box was found, at last.
Beyond the limit human guts can swell,
He quit this world with one foul putrid blast.
Poor Hector, uncorrupted, lay in state
'til Priam tucked him in, atop his pyre.
But French bacteria disdain to wait;
recycling nutrients, as sure as fire.
These Windsors don't rely on Normans' claims,
but have a thing for inauspicious names

Trump's end

Taveras flipped; obstruction's now overt;
destroying evidence is not okay.
Surveillance tapes, and electronic dirt,
persist when paper traces flush away.
Like Butterfield, it's IT workers know
where evidence of what's went down lies hid.
Those Oval Office tapes of long ago
Attest what Richard Nixon said, and did.
Conspirators must walk, or hang, as one;
game-theorists taught this much about crime.
One member breaks, the whole cabal is done;
the last to sing, will serve the hardest time.
I don't remember who it was who said:
that "two can keep a secret--if one's dead"

"Women are like crystals"

Fleet Hermes laughed at Ares, snared by Love.
For now, the latter's spear seems safely sheathed.
Suspended from the brazen springe above,
while Aphrodite cursed and writhed beneath.
The cuckold's not as sanguine at their plight
he'd hoped to come up empty with this net.
Consorting with the Cypriote one night
no god nor mortal's likely to forget.
Loud Menelaos dared, 'though he'd been warned
to wed the fairest maiden in all Greece.
Predictably, his brow's adorned with horns,
his generation's not cut out for peace.
The Western canon's grandest epic text
makes no pretense that war's not twin to sex.

prigozhin epic

Prigozhin's stable-boy pulled off the swap/
bronze axle-pin replaced with one of wax/
Life's tenuous for Russians near the top;/
they pull no pensions once they've got the ax.//
From thirty thousand feet, this took a bit/
'though decompression might have knocked them out./
If they were conscious by the time they hit/
who'd punched their final ticket's not in doubt./
"Appeal to Heaven"'s still Locke's last resort;
vonStauffenberg's revered for having tried.
Once Putin neutered both the Press, and Court,
fond dreams of perestroika wholly died.
One wing blew off, the other did its job
jet-powered maple seed's a frantic thing.
Without due vengeance, there could be no mob;
you get no second shot to kill a king.
Myrtilus never got to claim his prize;
Tantalides dispatched him off a cliff.
No court backs traitor's claim to what he buys,
when Pelops says he thought it's just a gift.
Myrtilus never got to claim his prize;
Tantalides dispatched him off a cliff.
No court backs traitor's claim to what he buys,
when Pelops says he thought it's just a gift.

Sweet Daphne fled to London for his life
rebuffing Putin's larcenous advance.
Ten years in prison, sundered from his wife

no rules the swankest dojo West of France.

The part of Icarus is hard to cast
so many took to wing, but splatted hard.
This open-window policy can't last;

surviving oligarchs are on their guard.

no honor among thieves

Prigozhin's stable-boy pulled off the swap,
bronze axle-pin replaced with one of wax.
Life's tenuous for Russians near the top;
they pull no pensions once they've got the ax.
From thirty thousand feet, this took a bit
'though decompression might have knocked them out.
If they were conscious by the time they hit,
who'd punched their final ticket's not in doubt.
"Appeal to Heaven"'s still Locke's last resort;
vonStauffenberg's revered for having tried.
Once Putin neutered both the Press, and Court,
fond dreams of perestroika wholly died.
Another rival sent to Davy Jones
the Kremlin wrote the rules for Game of Thrones.

Fire season

Dim, bleary orange smudge, not even round
just hints the sun's position in the sky.
In parody of snow; hot ash drifts down;
from day to day, we live by AQI.
No glint of older starlight's getting through;
this pressure cooker's lid's been torqued down tight.
The mind denies that skies had once been blue,
when all the palette's sepia, and white.
The atmosphere of Mordor sears and chokes,
as if Orodruin were belching forth
particulates and noxious plumes of smoke,
this time not from the East, but from the North.
Four seasons filled the sum of my desire;
this fifth's a crock of ashes, smoke, and fire.

rosh chodesh

the Eastern hills cough up the moon's last rind
and soon enough, the rising sun eats that.
The new day's threshold, where bare toes may find
an offal offering from someone's cat.
Two orbits, damned near in the common plane
collision courses for celestial ships.
Each keeping doggedly to its own lane,
inevitably slated to eclipse.
Celestial clockwork, tabulating days,
and festivals for Jews who scan the sky.
Or Muslims, 'though their count is out of phase;
such calendars are Hell to justify.
Tomorrow, she'll sink West, behind the sun;
each crossing marks another month that's done.


All reactions:2Judith Gottlieb and P Faith Hayflich

oermatched

His vambrace showed the faintest smudge of breath,
and Imrahil felt hope leap in his breast.
The maid who'd seemed so parlous fair in death,
now waxed heroic in her martial quest.
The terror that has served the Morgul Lord
as shield and armor in a changing world,
availed him nought when facing Dernhelm's sword;
he'd never faced the equal of this girl.
Despairing of the only man she craved,
she'd sought at least an honorable end.
Where only menfolk could be seen as 'brave'
a fiery soul horselords can't apprehend.
The worthy death fair Eowyn desired
deferred when Faramir was spared the fire.

visionary

The opportunity Bush 41
let slip when Gorbachev threw wide the door,
Recurs when Putin's empire venture's done.
It's less than zero-sum, what's spent on war.
Enduring Peace Kant saw could be achieved,
instead of fighting ancient feuds again.
Just needs world leaders able to conceive
that Peoples are no wickeder than Men.
"That vision thing" he struggled to explain,
was lost on Dubya when it came his term.
The GOP post-Nixon shuns the brains,
preferring tools who're pliant (but act firm).
It could be now! If only those on top
could contemplate a rival as world-cop.

modern warfare

The horrors Putin thought could be contained,
this week are banging on the Kremlin's door.
The independent people of Ukraine
don't play in Putin's asymmetric war.
The troops he'd need to occupy the land
must now be redeployed to guard his back.
If all her border-posts must now be manned,
no Russian's left to parry, or attack.
The mothers who made Gorbachev repent
Afghanistan, and bring their Vanyas home,
despair of bending this new government;
but any tyrant can be overthrown.
Elites could send riffraff to die alone
in ages past, before the time of drones.

Merkavah

Ezekiel saw wheels revolve in wheels
supporting Him who dwells above the skies.
Uncertain if this vision were quite real,
but most explicit: all around were eyes.
Beside the ditch that watered Babylon
where grieving landless transients were kept,
recalling rain-fed fields of days long gone,
the prophet rose, where others sat and wept.
God's cedar footstool Solomon had built
reduced to ashes from the roof to vault
reverberates still in our people's guilt
'Cause history itself is all our fault.
Attentive readers see, if they're astute
Our Lord is ever with us, in galut.

low-class

Eight Justices demurred to criticize
a criminal among them on the bench.
Emoluments discretely on the side
taint all the nine with one pervasive stench.
The Thomases craved life-long to belong
and Reagan's party opened wide a door.
Dismissing questions of what's "right" or"wrong"
proferring wealth, it sought an eager whore.
Our Framers did their best to insulate
our highest court from politics, and Class.
But never dreamt an ethos of Class-hate
would saddle us with such a venal ass.
"[O]n good behaviour" rather than "for life"
requires we ask: "Who's bought the judge's wife?"

uneasy rests the head

Disdainful of the noisesome, ill-bred mob
prince Charles played polo on his mummy's wealth.
Bereft, obliged long last to get a job
his fingers point to less than sterling health.
Diana was all Britain's princess bride
adored for charity, we felt she cared.
To coronate that woman at his side
the staunchest monarchists confess, they're scared.
An institution of another age;
John Locke explained its deep redundancy.
Camilla's never been the latest rage
but now she's stirring passions on the street.
A third King Charles! His namesakes are long dead.
We'll see how long this one can keep his head.

Dead Show

The lyrics raced in flames across the sky,
an alphabet no living mortals know.
Invisible to those who weren't high,
if there were any such, at such that show.
Fierce Revelation of the Fungal Truth,
as Dionysus manifests on stage,
accessible to California's youth,
amidst the strait-laced Ronald Reagan Age.
Old neural circuits latent in our minds,
still close when prompted with the proper key.
Cubensis makes the alkaloid that binds,
but never shared its rationale with me.
Ventura's long since swallowed by LA,
but we remember when gods came to play.

Supreme Arrogance

Chief justice Roberts chooses to be blind
as SCOTUS blunders off the moral cliff.
So confidant the voters wouldn't mind
that Thomas swims in unreported gifts.
Pacific jaunts that eldest justice took,
where Krakatoa's new volcanoes grow
are nowhere on his tax-accountant's books;
emoluments from "dear friend" TrammelCrow.
Jane Roberts also profits on the side
when litigants desire her husband's ear.
No penalty's incurred for laws defied
when perpetrators know they have no peer.
"[O]n good behaviour" rather than "for life"
requires we ask: "who's bought the judge's wife?"

Tzedekh, Tzedekh...

The coalition Netanyahu bought
with promises each bloc could live its dreams,
just winks at terrorists, when they get caught,
if they're perceived to play for the same team.
The many Netanyahu has betrayed
have sworn they'll never work with him again.
His underlings routinely go unpaid;
the dogs that run with him are scarcely men.
"I put no faith in Man" the psalmist wrote.
All government--he'd guess--is on the take.
The cynic's guide to how Haredi vote:
they'll back the crook who'll bend laws for their sake.
A politics of Fear, betraying Hope
has hooked a generation on this dope.

Shemini

Investiture's complete; it's been a week,
These Cohanim are ready to debut.
They've learned to dress, and schecht, and not to speak.
(as grievous as that last feels for a Jew) 
White-clad in linen, purged of sin and fear,
a turban knotted on each oil-slicked head
uniquely set apart, prepped to draw near,
a fancy-dress rehearsal to play dead.
As pure as Aaron's bull, and just as game
as Isaac, when his father'd raised that knife,
these two found consummation in the Flame,
exultant as a groom to take a wife.
Saint Paul proposed salvation's won through Faith;
Jews partner God, and have done, since the Eighth.

comeuppance

An asset valued low when it's for tax,
and high when bankers want a guarantee
has just one market worth, in point of fact
such double books incur a felony.
A lifetime stiffing those who'd done his work;
it's fitting maybe it should end this way.
The shameless woman nails the shameless jerk;
the only time the worker got her pay.
A life of crime took decades to get caught;
Roy Cohn scheps nachas from this gilded ass.
The inconvenient witness can be bought
and prosecution's rare for ruling class.
No court should take this felon at his word,
Letitia James is staunchly undeterred.

It was never about the nation's interests

Israelis on the Left failed to unite
against the perils Netanyahu brings.
A coalition so far on the Right
"prime minister" increasingly means "king".
No constitution circumscribes the role;
they've failed at writing one since '48.
If once Mishpat Elyon would cede control,
one man could compromise a people's fate.
Corruption charges never went away;
a blameless man would hasten to get cleared.
But Bibi's strategy was all delay,
and cultivating voters' baseless fears.
Two thousand years, we prayed we'd get self-rule.
And now we've blown it on this grifting tool.

a leaf in the wind

So cold and numb, the hailstrikes scarcely hurt;
their relative velocity's quite small.
Ten thousand meters off the Aussie dirt,
Wisnierska wasn't piloting at all.
Unconscious baggage in convection's blast
her glider--packed with snow--persists to fly.
Her life-force on the wane, and fading fast
the mystery is that she didn't die.
Where Gadd and Castle opt to sit one out,
she takes the meethead's word the day looks good.
Subordinating any private doubt,
'though now, she might repent that, if she could.
Mere gossamer within the stormhead's suck
she lives to fly again, through dumbest luck.

Experience

Wiśnierska's famous 'cause she didn't die
past thirty thousand feet, where air gets thin.
The meethead deemed the weather fit to fly;
to scratch the task would mean she couldn't win.
Convection carries energy aloft;
excited molecules each take more room.
Despite appearances, that cloud's not soft;
the white room's dark between each flash and boom.
Competitors--too oft--subordinate
their own good judgement to that meethead's call.
The race is on! And those who hesitate
can't add a shiny trophy to their wall.
While Gadd and Castle opt to sit one out
a lesser pilot can't admit to doubt.

foreign agent

The Lotus-eaters lapping up FauxNews
feel justified inciting civil strife.
Their failings, they attribute to"the Jews"
themselves, they feel no agency in life.
Their Murdoch masters sneer at them like bugs
unfit to even pour their masters' wine.
Addicted to their bread-and-circus drugs
they mindlessly repeat the party line.
The demagogue our Founding Fathers feared
came packaged by Australians in disguise.
Crass immigrants, to sell that bullshit here
where innocents can't tell the news from lies.
You'd be a cock-eyed optimist (or fool)
to trust Fox viewer to select who'll rule.

Purim pending

Dim rag of moon hangs in the East-most pines,
to photobleach as soon as it's bright day.
The tidal tug of both great orbs aligns
to lay seas bare as waters ebb away.
Adar impends! An end to many things;
next year, we pray our masks are just for fun.
For now, we play at princesses, and kings
a final fling sends off the year that's done.
Four New Years mark each circuit as we're twirled
'though "this shall be the first of months for you".
A constant as our history's unfurled;
the calendar's ordained, if you're a Jew.
Brief pre-dawn glimpse of sky, before it's gone
ferments in poets' brains like scraps of song.

Weeds

December rains iguanas from the trees
a rough thermometer to mark the drop
when Winter brings Dade county to its knees,
lean protein's free in this exotic crop.
Like lionfish, invasives can be sweet
('though Asian carp remain an uphill sell).
Reptilian tacos could be tourists' treat,
if marketers stepped up, and did it well.
A species like our own, when out of place,
wrecks havoc in a garden, or at large.
Few have the spine to tell us to our face
We're pathogens, deluded we're in charge.
Eventually, Earth will be OK
and sooner, if we'd merely go away.

The Windsors

Prince Harry's coming clean; he's quit the cult
that killed his mother and besmirched her name.
The Family's got no place for an adult
who can't be leashed with wealth, nor gagged with shame.
The Palace Press retorts with candy floss;
watch George and Charlotte chew the moppet roles!
Let peasants, grieving for the late Queen's loss
take comfort thinking someone's in control.
The Tories deem this contretemps a hoot!
distracting shoppers from their BREXIT mire.
As PM after PM gets the boot,
the cost of living's mounting ever higher.
While France dispensed with monarchs long ago,
most Brits still tune in to this stupid show.

imperial view

The violence that Muscovy projects
on subjugated peoples near and far
the educated readership rejects.
They're not put there to serve a distant Czar.
If Chechens were as vicious as portrayed,
The Moscow subways would have long gone"boom"
The Kommentariat's been bought and paid
and broadcast into every livingroom.
Kadyrov's the most useful brand of fool
"house-nigger" helping mastah to oppress.
He's not so much a "man", as household tool,
enjoying scraps they've stolen from the rest.
Class-consciousness remains exceeding rare;
and will until the People grow a pair.







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villainy

While Russian population's on the wane
minorities--by contrast--only rise.
So Putin's snatching toddlers in Ukraine
to man an empire their blood-kin despise.
A conscript's motivation's not the same
as theirs defending fam'ly, hearth, and home.
An army's compromised by its own shame
when staking claim to land that's not its own.
The Argentines have seen this play before;
adopted children rarely learn the truth.
Atrocious booty of a dirty war
when thugs appropriate opponents' youth.
Autocracy in its decrepit stage
pursues a policy of bygone age.