Saturday, November 30, 2019

daydreams

I smell the things he eats on his rank breath.
The predator that's clinging to my back

can't know I fantasize about his death,
each time I'm called from pasture to take tack.

Domestication's not all bad, I know.
We used to live in fear of wolves, and bears.

Extinction's a much tougher row to hoe;
too many species are no longer here.
But bonding with new strangers every week
--each acting like I owe something to him--
presumes that I'm consistently so meek
that I'm enthusiastic for his whim.
These city-slickers staying at Dude Ranches
smash gratifyingly on low-slung branches.

Wednesday, November 27, 2019

unconsidered opinion

The Kremlin plants fake stories on the Right
to poison dialogue among us Yanks.
They bait the Left as well, but get no bite;
the credulous are thin, among those ranks.
Mistrusting facts, Trump's base clings to his cult
like he's some Cyrus, doing God's behest.
The skepticism fitting an adult--
If not eradicated's--been suppressed.
A battle
 different than we've waged before
is not amenable to compromise;
if we're to win this asymmetric war
we'll need an antidote to arrant lies.
Democracy's a less-than stable boat
if citizens won't read, and think, and vote.

Monday, November 25, 2019

testify, sister!

Fiona Hill's a villain to the tribe
who'll never get what makes this country great.

She caught her boss soliciting a bribe
and--by her oath--will not equivocate.
The immigrants who've made this land their own

(not Gorka, but the likes of Dr. Hill)
won't bow to Trumpty on his tin-plate throne
and rain contempt on sycophants who will.
A land where class won't limit where she'll go,

where accent won't define a woman's place;
should not be sullied with Trump's quid pro quo,
or Pence's thinly veiled appeals to race.
No man of woman born can bring him down,

But Hill's the fitting bane of Trumpty-clown.





Saturday, November 23, 2019

chayya Sarah

A slave plays out the type-scene at the spring
for Yitzhak, who must never leave the Land.
Enticing her with camels, gold, and ring
(the last is for her nose, not for her hand).
His master'd charged him: "Go and take a wife!
But do so for the one who can't be there"
Although that ram redeemed his forfeit life,
Our jealous God's still disinclined to share.
By now, Laban weighed harsh on Rivka's nerves
And prospects in her hometown rated low.
This unseen prince could be what she deserves;
she didn't hesitate to say "let's go!".
The match his mother took no time to find
was left to God when he tried dating blind.

Friday, November 22, 2019

duplicitous

The scandal Gordon Sondland has described
sets diplomats in conflict on two tracks.
While some extorted allies, seeking bribes
the others blandly claimed to have their backs.
Yet neither could be said to have gone rogue;
each executing what their boss had said.
Confusion over what's the quid pro quo
is wholly inside Trumpty's addled head.
Two sets of books--just like he keeps for tax!
One cover story, one recording crime.
Compulsive liar's "alternative facts"
collide with real reality, real-time.
'Though Trump--predictably--will throw a fit
Fiona Hill's not taking any shit.


Thursday, November 21, 2019

adult supervision

Ken Starr concedes Pelosi's case looks strong
but doubts Republicans will sign on--yet.
To punish Trump--although it's plain he's wrong--
Is not the way this partisan would bet.
The straw that made Dick Nixon cut and run:
four party elders told him to his face
Their role in his whole cover-up was done.
They'd shouldered far too much of his disgrace.
Each day, another witness testifies
They'd asked for bribes 'cause Trumpty'd told them so
While Giuliani coached them in their lies,
the goal was manifestly quid pro quo.
When Starr admits Pelosi's case makes sense
a Democrat may face off with Mike Pence.


Wednesday, November 20, 2019

honor among thieves