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veritas Jul 2018
push and pull like a tug of war dance
on dissident minds speak
in twisted tongues refuse
the cards you are dealt this is not wonderland.
you left your home to wake up to black horsemen and
sleep to a warm darkness
it's a house of cards
you live in
by tattered shreds hangs your reality torn up bits
flying because this is not paradise.
this is a door blown open this is a scream ringing
clear as night
it’s the midwife of death
bearing a basket of wilting roses and a glass of
vice it’s
deteriorating in the touch of dissipation
melting away like the fabric of a net of
lies lies snakes slithering from mouths it's an evil
nobody could have seen
birthed from the depths of your heart but
it's the truth.
hidden underneath your skin oh dear
wake! for the ground misses your kisses
and the public seems to just adore you so
arise! for your redemption rests in the hands of a
forsaken god, and he has left judgement
in the eyes of a juryless court;
for you are the king
and you must do what a king does—
reign.
the fascist anathema.
Brent Kincaid Aug 2017
We should throw a party and then
Dump a Trump
Give Trump lumps
Make him jump.
Drag him over the same kind of bumps
He dragged us and laughed at us.

Dump a Trump!
Deserves a massive thump;
He’s a whiny grump!
Dump a Trump!
Anyone who has the name of Trump
Should kiss our collective ****!

We should get together and just
Dump a Trump
Oust that schlump
To the city dump.
Treat him like he treated those before
And send him home on a city bus.

Dump a Trump!
Deserves a massive thump;
He’s a whiny grump!
Dump a Trump!
Anyone who has the name of Trump
Should kiss our collective ****!

Let's call a convention and
Dump a Trump!
He’s a festering clump
As dim as Forest Gump.
New Yorkers call him a ****** ****.
We hope all see that he is finally busted
That his former shine is obviously rusted.

Dump a Trump!
Deserves a massive thump!
He’s a whiny grump!
Dump a Trump!
Anyone who has the name of Trump
Should kiss our collective ****!
Ron Gavalik Aug 2017
An elaborate nightmare about fascists
running amok on nameless American streets
dominated a long sleep
after an endless week of servitude at the job.

In the nightmare, socialists in a nameless American town
battled torch-bearing white men without souls
in bland polo shirts and khakis.
A pervasive aroma of wood-fired smoke,
beer, and diesel fumes cut us off from the natural world
as the Neo-Nazis and their allies surrounded us.

In the throes of the crippling effects of dread and fear
the few of us, brothers and sisters of love and compassion,
the very young and the very old,
pushed forward to fight as warrior poets,
in remembrance of our grandparents,
for our children,
and for ourselves.

In the dream's periphery, blank faces of cowards
I've known for life looked on from sidewalks.
They refused to fight,
and instead they cracked sarcastic jokes
about both sides.
I had this nightmare on Friday night, August 11 into Saturday morning, August 21, 2017.

This is a Neo-**** premonition dream that I jotted down as free verse prior to Charlottesville. What I find most disturbing about the piece is how I ended it with Trump's "both sides," days before he spoke the words.

I have no trouble wrapping my mind around evil and the metaphysical elements that combat that evil. Still, I find my own nightmare on this issue to be of greater value than a simple warning.

There's a reason I had this nightmare.
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