"likable enough"

Bill cringes watching Hillary orate
although he mustn't let journalists see
she has no shield to turn their barbs and hate
and let's them know she does it for the fee
agree or not, the voters found Bill warm
but Hillary just shovels on dry facts
a politician's craft presumes some charm
that secretary Clinton wholly lacks
unnatural ambition makes her run
without a hint that she enjoys the fight
where Bill made wheeling-dealing look like fun
she'll scream if you once doubt that she was right
he's served two terms, and now serves from the wings
a wife who's shown no talent for this thing

windbag

Trump bluffs compulsively and thinks he's smart
to play the nomination like a game
in which duplicity's extolled as "art"
and only losers have a sense of shame
tomorrow, he might try another tack
alliances dissolve, by whim or force
the wife who kept him squealing in the sack
was counting down the nights 'til the divorce
a changing world demands a steady hand
disastrous wars his rhetoric forebodes
who'll disobey war-criminal commands
were such a man to hold the missile codes
he lies about his wealth and calls it "class"
but clueless minions run to kiss his ass

deeds done in darkness

Fonseca plays the shell-game to the stars
obscuring troves of their ill-gotten loot
they'd show your assets were all earned on Mars
if that would render the tax-burden moot
let legislatures try to levy tax
the A-list deftly duck out on their share
the burden falls upon the Workers' backs
and never on the robber-baron's heir
a billion's quickly hidden overseas
but those who toil to eat can't catch a break
their nest eggs stunted by their bankers' fees
while One Percenters scold 'let them eat cake!'
the game's been rigged by those who drew the board
all profits skimmed into the bankers' hoard

fear-mongers

the Wakefield fraud keeps killing innocents
believing what's once printed must be right
but the retraction cannot make a dent
they've made their minds up and resolved to fight
no reasoned arguments can penetrate
an anti-Vaxxer's victim-narrative
convinced they're saints to stand against the State
as well to carry water in a sieve
the Media are there to entertain
their masters fund them to increas their wealth
and anecdotes of death, or loss, or pain
sell more air-minutes than does Public Health
and now he's got a movie out called "Vaxxed"
as if there weren't such a thing as "facts"

what is

the mystery is we might understand
with minds designed for finding fish and fruits
a universe constructed without plan
inhabited by beings whom it suits
anthropic principles toss what can't be
within our corner of the multiverse
not knowing which parameters are free
and which can change (but only for the worse)
invoking "God" concedes the mind's defeat
hypotheses are made to falsify
the Standard Model--'though it's not complete--
still outperforms old scripture's pious lie
like Goldilocks, we ponder day and night
why it should be this cosmos is just right

ceaseless vigilance is the price

where there's success, there'll be a parasite
extracting profit without making goods
nor services to set the books aright
like Adam Smith conjectured that he should
emergent properties don't need a plan
to build economies, or craft an eye
and no watchmaker, be he god or man
needs speculators, nor a tsetse fly
imbalances in Trade make Nations sick
and unredressed, they'll swirl right down the sink
a Trump or Koch is just a loathsome tick
who'd casually drive us all extinct
rent-seekers should be spurned like lice or fleas
incessant RedQueen's Race against disease

let us make gods in our own image

God has no hands but those we lend the tasks
God has no face but those seen in the street
we fool ourselves with images and masks
that may evoke, but must be incomplete
we sing of "up" but should be gazing in
conceptualizing causes from "out there"
that lead us willy-nilly into "sin"
but they're just gods and castles on the air
the opiate of masses serves the king
who wants to keep us harnessed to his goal
and if we'd only give him everything
he'll free us from the burden of control
no long white beard keeps us infantilized
if once we were adults in our own eyes