The sunrise finds him cooling in his bed
who yesterday planned with his royal wife
a future in which neither one was dead;
denial features in king Charles' life.
His mother'd kept him comfortable in Wales
'til any juice of youth was safely spent.
the dernier cri in well-appointed jails
in which her first-born could be life-long pent.
He's done his duty, got a hale male heir
Like Henry couldn't, 'though--Lord knows-- he tried.
If now he's distant from the red haired Spare,
I tend to blame it on his second bride.
Would I be awfully forward to inquire:
"who gets to throw that woman on his pyre?"
The siblings he had never known in life
embrace their newest brother as their own.
The bargain--in addition to a wife--
now--at a stroke--gets family, and home.
From Orange, to Seattle, (and return?)
the trek you'd never charter in advance
by way of tending forests as they burn
shows human will triumphant over Chance.
Contracted freely by a human hand,
no clergy need intrude in this domain
No fictive Power hanging over Man
needs mediate when Ian met Jermaine.
When speeches, pomp, and pageantry are done,
two lives united joyously make one.
A Nazi rally like we haven't seen
since father Coughlin damned the"Hebrew race"
now broadcast planet-wide by Trump's machine,
appalling even some within his base.
To Vance, Trump seemed a "Hitler" of our own
seductive to uneducated proles.
But Thiel commanded that he change that tone;
such followers are easily controlled.
In Florida, Republicans taste dread
Hispanic voters find his hatefest crass.
In districts that are less than beetroot red,
down-ballot brace to take it in the ass.
Trump's insecurities on bold display
increasingly, drive ethnic votes away.
LaTrobe seemed safe, Trump thought he'd humanize
his bid where voters trended staunchly Red.
Rhapsodic about Arnold Palmer's size,
and how he dreamt of foursomes, while in b,ed.
No prosecutors charging him with graft,
no women seeking child support again
just drooling over Arnold's "strong...stiff shaft"
the way one does when bonding with men's men..
The millions daddy gave him now long gone,
whole fortunes dribbled through his stubby hands.
This textbook insecure spray-tanned DonJuan
seeks --vainly --validation he's a man.
Trump fawning worship of their golfer ace
is weirding out his homophobic base.
Trump now refers to rioters as"we"
like insurrection weren't an offense.
While Vance seeks refuge in his sophistry,
dementia's carried Trump past such pretense.
Disinhibition's gussied up as "BOLD!"
by handlers charged with selling the big con.
We're not supposed to notice he's too old
to finish thoughts, or glop his makeup on.
Superlatives are all he seems to know;
no nuance complicates his thoughts, or speech.
Reality, transcending TV shows
slips daily ever farther out of reach.
Malignant ego's left him largely blind
a legend in his own sclerotic mind.
Dick Cheney shot his lawyer in the face;
the victim hastened to apologize.
To drink with Vice spills honor on the base!
And surgeons think he won't lose both his eyes.
In lieu of politics, it's tribal war
where no dishonesty's accounted "sin".
Like autocrats have often done before,
Trump tears the heavens down, to claim a "win".
The deference Republicans bestow,
to Democrats, smells of idolatry.
However low their nominee might go,
they'll"stand" by him--is"standing's" on one's knees.
When even Cheney's playing the adult,
Americans link arms against Trump's cult.
Another class cut short, and still we balk
to curb this carnage in our very schools.
The lobbyists make sure we only talk
--at most--about the felons, not their tools.
The lecture halls have rows of empty chairs;
the college dorms have floors of empty beds.
Incoming freshman simply aren't there;
the entrance bar's too high, when they're long dead.
Since 'Heller', individuals claim rights
that theretofore inhered unto the States.
Scalia, ruling by his special lights,
abused our highest bench, to legislate.
With time, our whole republic comes undone;
a nation's future's picked off, one by one.
