the president takes a
knee
i’ve seen that bloated
fucker
wobbling outside the catch-22
so drunk he couldn’t light his smoke
he looks just like the president
not that orange-faced toddler we have now
the last republican one
no. 43…dubya
the scion of the last reasonable republican dynasty
that twitchy cowboy cocksucker
who dodged shoes and choked on pretzels
who got us into endless wars
the one with the blood
of over 500,000 iraqi citizens on his hands
dubya, who paints pictures of soldiers now as a penance
that one
he looks just like that one
you can see him on any given sunday
walking up and down 3rd avenue
with his clint eastwood eyes and budweiser belly
just asking for it
wearing his stand for the flag, kneel for the cross t-shirt
like some kind of nationalistic cartoon character
packaged and shipped straight
from the heartland
while all of the other good neighborhood men
walk around in football jerseys
looking like high school girlfriends at the homecoming ball
yeah you can see that fucker
mr. fake president, mr. tough guy patriot
holding court at the end of the bar
with a sweating aluminum bottle in his stubby hands
or so lit off his ass before four in the afternoon
that he can’t even speak
taking a knee on a street corner
ciggy dangling out his slobbering mouth
trying to keep back the vomit and bile
from spilling out of his big, fat, red face
christening the cracked sidewalk
where all the other good patriots are out
doing their shopping
looking back at our fallen hero occasionally
just in case
it’s really him.
--John Grochalski
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