Perhaps,
well perhaps
if you don't want
the US Press to investigate
& publish
& do their job,
you might consider
not calling them
****!

& perhaps
if you don't want,
your hidden Russian ties
looked into & broadcast all over,
you might,
just might,
not want to make
your subservience
& craven submission
to Putin
so plainly obvious
to all but the
complete deaf mutes
amongst us,

& perhaps,
just perhaps,
if you want
the Intelligence Services
on your side,
you might next time,
not stand in
front of a wall
honoring their dead,
& spend the time
bragging & lying
& honoring
your own
**** self,

& perhaps,
if you want
respect & 'a chance'
you might acknowledge
the complete ethical vacuum
that was your campaign,
& the complete lack of
simple human decency
that was your
trademark,
this last
year
and a half.

6 Muslims
were killed
in Canada
in one day
last week,

this is
a higher
figure
than that
of Americans
killed by refugees
over the last
20 years,

the killer
was a white guy,
a Supremacist,
and as far as
I know
Trump has shared
not a word
of sympathy
or condolence
on this tragic
crime,

as of today,
not
a
single
solitary
word.

It’s a riding of the golden enthroning chariot
around  the tumultuous roaring coliseum as of
ancient & fast declining Rome,  
all amidst a clamoring sea
of simple red-hatted whiteness,
as he absorbs, just soaks right on in,
that honest folks love.

All the while smiling
like Vinnie in a bar in Queens
chuckling over his latest conquest story,
as he shares weak Martini’s with his
drunken & besotted lieutenants.

His time to gloat & sneer at the weak & fallen,
the small boy’s big day out,
riding in papas fancy car  
while tossing out empty favors
& a smirking Royal glance at the limping
trembling, so victorious
hopeful rubes.

No, it’s not a thankyou tour,
it’s a Victory lap.

Breitabart was permitted entry of course, you know
'Expel All Muslims' Breitbart, & CNN NYT, & LAT were all
held back by some panting freshly-minted Republican staffer & had
to wait all shocked & chagrined at the closed door as one blank dead
eyed maniacally grinning young newly promoted Lieutenant Miller and
one bull-heavy Bannon strutted like obscene vulture marionettes in their favourite special-wear searingly shiny knee-high Wehrmacht boots which had just been licked mirror clean & furiously polished with their very sweat by a heaving gaggle of simpering craven Republican lackeys who had come comically dancing & prancing when summoned from the floor of the so-called People's House with a "yes sir, no sir ... what can I do next sir" to grease the skids on the Fascist Express with the their very blood & the tears of the innocents gathered so fresh that very dawn with no stops till the sun rises on your New World.
.... oh yes indeed.

Independents have it hard as
its tough to choose between
a democrat and a raving
fascist idiot I know that I do &
the nights they must have
spent tossing & turning over
this near unfathomable
question of Trump or Clinton
as President elicits the deepest
sympathy on my part for this
near unanswerable dilemma
of Trump or a Democrat & I see
I do, how tough it is to be an
Independent these days, just
so very, very hard.

"I think if this country gets any kinder or gentler,
it’s literally going to cease to exist."

Trump chatting it up with
******* gave us that sweet
gem of philosophical &
political wisdom,

Oh kindness ..
that communist conspiracy
cooked up by that bearded longhair
Leon Trotsky & close to a bacillus
that threatens the goodness
of the nation & thus simply
treating each other nicely
becomes the equivalent
of Red Guard fanaticism,

as if niceness was a Leninist
conspiracy & looking out for
strangers was an underhand
ruse & the first station on the
way to the Siberian Gulag
& children informing on
their mama & papa,

as if gentleness was a sin
close to ****** & a defect
solved by drastic measures
somewhat akin to re-education
camps in the steamy jungle
morning,

as if looking out for one
another came with a
guaranteed negative
for the giver & thus
wasn't at all a good
deal & heck isn't a
thing I'd sign off
on thats for ****
sure,

as if brotherly love & simple
common solidarity in the
face of life's trials & harsh
tribulations was anathema
to the 'real' man who sure
as heck won't give an inch
if he thinks the other dudes
gettin' one over on him,

as if compassion was an
elitist liberal virtue & caring
for one another was mirrored
by the Manson Family & sure
by golly gee we're not taking
that road you must be kidding
seriously now,

as if love was not a Christian virtue
& as if trust revealed you as a
taken rube & as if letting your
guard down & giving a ****
meant Satan had taken hold
in your heart & you were now
a direct threat to all we hold
near & dear & sacred.

Just be nice ...
Its not so much to ask.

The Immigration Act
of 1917,
barred
"all idiots & imbeciles,
feeble-minded persons,
epileptics,
insane persons,
... persons with chronic alcoholism;
paupers,
& professional beggars,
and those with tuberculosis"

It barred ...
"felons,
polygamists,
prostitutes
& their traffickers."

Trump & Bannon's
Immigration Act of 2017
bars Muslims,
able-bodied Muslims,
needy Muslims,
starving Muslims,
fleeing Muslims.

Muslims in refugee camps,
student doctor Muslims,
short-sighted Muslims,
limping Muslims,
school-teacher Muslims,
ordinary Muslims,

in a word,
Muslims.

Mr Douglass is doing well
doing big things
in America today,
big things,
being noticed,
yes he is.

Ben took me with him
& I met some too,
Black folks
that is,
great people,
great people,
and Omarosa
and Paul
lovely folks,
lovely,
but the Press
is unfair,
unfair.

and African-Americans
love this country
and did big things,
& I like them,
I really do.

All this shallow
near incoherent
rambling
from a man
who questioned
the very legitimacy
of America's first
African-American
President,

questioned it day
after day

for two
toxic
& racist
& vicious
years.

Just in case,
you know,
just filling you in,
a word in your ear,
having a little
mention
& such,

Muslims breathe air,
like snacks,
wear clothes,
bite into apples,
make babies,
just like us.

Some like soccer,
Monopoly,
Spongebob Squarepants,
even going for
a short walk,
actually
just
like us.

They too marvel
at the starry night sky,
caress soft fur,
love their children,
read books,
like music,
which is
just
like us.

The fact
this needs
pointing out,
is a tragedy
of such proportion
that my poem
just ends
right
here …

A Great America they want
not that quaint Amusement Park
in rural Illinois,
but an Old America
a Previous America
an America
to be over
& done with,
to be honest.

A scared America
a haunted America
an America with
all the colors
washed out,
sun-dried,
bleached,
truth be told,
a White
America.

Republicans.
Are they human?
Do they breath
the same air
as we do?
are they born of woman
or ooze & shimmer forth
from some dark
pitiless depth
that is leagues
upon leagues
under the earth?

Republicans, do they eat
as you and I?
Need sustenance,
liquid nourishment,
shoes on their feet,
shirts for their
backs?
and how do they sleep?
standing in closets?
passive in coffins?
prone in tombs?
on their backs
hands across chest,
as Knights of old
in the ancient
countries?

Do they walk like me?
Ponder fragile things?
Feel love for the
tender daisy?
Weep tears in the morning sun?
Wet their toes walking
in the dew?

Smile as the sun sets
oh so gently
crimson red
& blazing
in the west?

Are they human?
These folk I walk this earth with,
share the air,
the wind,
the rain.

Republicans, are they human?