By Sid Schwab
Some say I am making things worse.
Then how ‘bout I try it with verse?
This might be the time
For turning to rhyme
To make it sound less like a curse
Than the stuff I am wont to produce.
So why not attempt to let loose
A handful of poems
Instead of the tomes
That Trumpites consider abuse.
No lim’rick falutes very high
But for them I don’t have to try
Very hard to compose
A meter for those
Who’ll allow me to come through the wry.
The problem of course is just that
The issues we need to get at
Are growing so big
We’ll all need to dig
Much deeper than settling for pat
Answers to questions we raise,
For these are the darkest of days.
A family of crime
Places making a dime
Above all of the various ways
They could do what is best for the folks
Who don’t have the means of the Kochs
To get what they need.
Instead it’s Trump’s greed
That treats the poor like they’re jamokes.
And yet it’s the people who stand
To lose most from this dishonest man
Who continue to think
That his obvious stink
Is perfume wafting over the land.
He’s rude and a cheat, some agreed,
But they figured he’d change with the need;
That after the vote
He surely would note
What he must rise above to succeed.
For them it was less to elect
A fraud than a chance to reject
Allowing a sequel
To making folks equal.
They had their lost pride to protect.
You’d think there’d be none who would root
For a guy who is trying to pollute
Our air and our streams
By whatever means
That help his rich friends get more loot.
I’m happy he tweets ev’ry day.
It keeps my depression at bay.
Trump’s skin is so thin
It lets us see in
To a mind in the throes of decay.
He said we’d get tired of winning,
But when will we see the beginning?
It takes more than bluster
Successes to muster.
On con men our hopes we’ve been pinning.
Like ev’ry R prez gone before him,
Trump says to those folks that adore him,
He’ll lower their taxes
While Defense he maxes.
But the math of it all looks to bore him.
There’s nothing Obama has said
That Congress won’t try to retread.
Trump’d call it untrue
If he’d said sky is blue,
And sign a law making it red.
Obama had aided the plight
Of those who Assad they did fight
But Vlad didn’t like it
So Don he did strike it
He let Putin tell him what’s right.
It’s only fake news, move along.
In fact we can see nothing wrong
With getting a hand
From enemy land
They sing: The new patriot song.
Trump says climate change is a hoax.
He figures us regular folks
Can roast as in Hell
Long as cronies do well.
Plus science is only a joke.
One wonders just what it would take
For their and America’s sake
For Trumpists to see
That the source of their glee
Is the thing, not the news, that is fake.
He’s president only for glory
That’s all that there is to the story.
He holds himself rallies,
With sycophants dallies
While most of us look on and worry.
His speech to the Scouts clearly shows
How deep his pathology goes.
He crammed his sick gloats
Down their innocent throats.
It’s daily he sinks to new lows.
Ain’t no one is gonna impeach
As long as control’s out of reach.
R’s see as their job
Poor people to rob
While Dems ineffectively preach.
To watch the R congressfolk flail
While trying to make O-care fail
Is to see they forgot
That good laws need thought.
For eight years they chose just to rail.
McCain just rose up from the fog.
Did tumors his memory jog?
The maverick is back
No longer a hack.
He must have been reading my blog.
I cannot yet quit before noting
That “Integrity panel” they’re floating
(Though they swear to some god
That it’s all about fraud)
Is aimed at preventing Dems voting.
Thus endeth my brief change of tone.
I cut it less close to the bone.
But danger is such
That too light a touch
Could possibly leave me alone
In thinking a diff’rence I make.
So after this silliness break
It’s back to the grind
Of speaking my mind
For all of our lives are at stake.
Email Sid Schwab at columnsid@gmail.com.
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