arriviste

The White House plans are something to behold
now Trump's determined to redecorate
mahogany all overlaid with gold
reflected in bright chrome and silverplate.
The bathtub that accommodated Taft
must stretch for Donald's ego, gut, and wig
to float  his rubber duckies, tug, and raft
Trump needs one that's superlatively big.
Acceptance that this parvenue long chased
recedes, however earnestly it's sought
three wives learned not to laugh at his poor taste
but settled for the stuff their virtue bought.
No gilt of glitz can substitute for class;
the face we show the world's this bloated ass

while the fatcat's away

Vacation beckons, Donald blows this town
away from the humidity and heat.
The toll of so much winning's got him down.
At golf,  his friends accept he's gonna cheat.
The drive he slices into the pro shop
goes unrecorded; there's another ball.
His caddy sets a tee with it atop;
to mention it would be the height of gall.
But back in Washington, Bob Mueller's team
is prospecting among the gold for dirt
already, Flynn's shown more than just a gleam.
Trump's going down; the landing's gonna hurt.
The links this Special Counsel documents
spell out the downfall of this president.

words

Josiah's renovations took a while;
incense and flesh had turned the Temple black.
The job he'd undertaken as a child
would scrape three hundred years of soots stains back.
His priestly tutors thought he ought to look
at what the work uncovered underground
a certifiable old sacred book!
The Tetrateuch would have to be rebound.
A more explicit creed of quid pro quo,
the royal subjects gotta toe his line
but no word more! The scriptures can't just grow.
God's word is whole and perfect at this time.
The canon's closed; don't worry what comes next.
Hereafter, revelation's from the text.

strange bedfellows

Paul Ryan blames the leakers, not the Press
despite Jeff Sessions baying for jihad
John Kelly gets to mop up Spicer's mess;
our journalists are sacred (next to God).
The Federalists knew we'd have to read
and argue through the issues of our day
to safeguard our republic from the greed
of those who'd rig the game through pay-to-play.
And now, Trump's ship's so plainly going down,
the Speaker wants some daylight 'tween the two
unhitching his career from this sad clown
before his gavel goes to someone new
opposing Trump makes opposites allies
as more Americans see through their lies

what madness is this?

His geniality served Reagan well
when nouns and syntax all began slip.
He gazed into the teleprompter's well
and few could tell he'd wholly lost his grip.
A nasty man projects his character
as if the flaws and sins were not his own
and somehow, blame should all attach to her
when now the onus falls on him, alone.
Dementia steals Trump's only competence
no logic now connects his web of lies
increasingly, we'd settle for mere Pence
for whom brute power's not the only prize.
The oldest president we've ever known
is mad as Lear, but clinging to the throne.

Fourth Turning

Like Flynn, and Spicer, Scaramucci's gone
and speculation turns to Bannon's fate
how long can anyone sustain this con?
Uncashed, that check will just evaporate.
Rasputin sank his claws into a Czar
but never monetized his influence.
His dream, like millions' died in the Great War
when Lenin won the People's confidence.
Apocalyptic ravings can wear thin,
when what Trump really craves are hymns to Trump
and all he truly trusts are links of kin.
Steve might soon hit the sidewalk on his rump.
Trump claims to love the chaos and the churn
but every bridge he's crossed is quick to burn.

non-elective

Melania had plastic surgery
but nothing could obscure that ugly lump.
Our Senate's gonna have to cut us free,
resecting the malignancy that's Trump.
For years, her arm's disfigured by this mass
that lately, starts to suppurate and swell.
By now, the wound's discolored, taut with gas;
she's doomed to surgery, if not to Hell.
Trump shits on foreigners, but his own wife
still condescends to take him to her bed.
She may be saved, but it will take a knife
now this carbuncle's ripened to a head.
Her gross infirmity can't be disguised
she wed the thing that needs to be excised.