blue bubble

Convection roils our lower atmosphere
transporting solar energy away
if, at most frequencies the air is clear
not brown like Delhi, Beijing, or LA.
There, photons give it up far overhead
the upper air's no cooler than below
the column luminesces infrared
and what's been heated's got no place to go.
Still, all of it must stratify at night
for lack of insolation, gravity
like Maxwell's demon, sorts them out by height;
the atmosphere grows stable as a sea.
Another planet, orbiting its sun
might prove quite alien, when all is done.

whither Europe?

The European Union posed a threat
to Putin's dreams of new hegemony
he likes  them separated, and in debt
a fertile field to sow autocracy.
Macron proposes something more, instead
a fiscal union, feeding one shared till.
Kant's League-of-Nations dream just won't stay dead;
the reverie of Peace is hard to kill.
Two visionaries fight for Europe's soul.
American hegemony's long past.
Our troops pay rent, but aren't in control;
last year's alliances are fraying fast.
The Monetary Union's just phase one
of something wholly new beneath the sun.

too far

Contempt of Congress might bring them to blows
who've been complicit lo these many times
there comes a point when everybody knows
what Trump's been up to constitute "high crimes".
Arpaio's pardon might yet prove the straw
that strains Paul Ryan's patience past the top.
Our legislators like to think that Law
is not at the discretion of some cop.
Executive ambition's run amok!
If all we've built is not to tumble down,
our representatives must give a fuck
that they've been base enablers of this clown.
Steep price to spare Arpaio time in jail!
Without the Rule of Law, republics fail.

potential II

The morning glory that all night laid furled,
now blossoms wide to greet the spreading dawn.
In synchrony with our rotating world,
celestial clockwork animates its pawn.
Bright metaphor twined on my garden gate,
of mind encountering a novel light,
as alkaloids make one hallucinate,
igniting sparks across what had been night.
The information waiting to upload's
mere gibberish unless you hold the key.
The plan no planner planned's all there in code
but locked away until you set it free.
Those synapses don't fire except at need;
the phenotype lies latent in the seed.

loyalty

Each week, James Mattis weighs his loyalty
assessing at what threshold he'd resign
in protest of Trump's latest policy
no patriot can always toe the line.
The Powell Story's graven in his head
a noble man ill-used to sell a war
Brett Scowcroft met with him and bluntly said
'to serve Trump thus, would be to play the whore.'
No man commands the love he bears his flag
and quitting's how he'd have to send rebuke.
When all the bullshit makes him want to gag
Mad Dog's resolved to leave, but not to puke.
Punctilious to play his scripted role,
some wish the general would seize control.

potential

the morning glory that all night laid furled
now opens wide to greet the spreading dawn
in synchrony with our rotating world
celestial clockwork animates its pawn
bright metaphor twined on my garden fence
of mind encountering a novel light
as alkaloids seduce intelligence
to scatter sparks across what had been night
the information waiting to upload's
mere gibberish unless you hold the key
the plan no planner planned's all there in code
but locked away until you set it free.
that synapse only fires when there'a need;
the phenotype implicit in the seed

ambition

Paul Ryan's scoping out his next campaign.
Too long, ambition has been chafing, pent
-up, wasted in the service of plain Jane
-sville. Donors want him to be president.
For such a leap, he'll find no precedence;
House Speaker's plainly after the VP.
Bob Mueller'd have to take out Trump and Pence
before succession fell to number three.
But lately, Trumps been stoking up that dream
discarding allies crucial to this fight
unable to consolidate a team
his instinct's to divide, not to unite.
The nation's sickened by this latest turn
when all we really wanted was the Bern.