day EIGHT HUNDRED and FIFTY SEVEN

Man of Mar-a-Lago

You do not have to be good

to have a quest. Evil dreams

can be impossible too.

When you tilted at the windmills

of our government, you were unhorsed

and bruised, but so were we.

Your Aldonza remains Aldonza, because

you never believed in “Dulcinea” anyway.

You were just the head muleteer,

who crossed her palm with silver.

Your Sancho was already the governor

(if a bad one) of an island.

And no, he doesn’t really like you.

Your only dream was to be knighted

with universal adulation:

Don the Stable Genius. And even this

would never be enough, never equal

the flash of approval in old Fred’s eyes,

the nod of acceptance that never came.

And now Fox and your last Friends,

are circling you, turning their mirrored shields,

and you fall, blinded by the glare

of reality. But still, forever chanting:

I am the best.

I am the greatest.

I alone can fix it.

--Cheryl Caesar