A Mr. Rogers for the wealthy,
Warm and snuggly on cue,
Fatherly firm when needed.
Making them feel good about
Pillaging and looting the
Country they claim to love.
With trickle-down, supply-side
Ecocide and globalization
Shipping American jobs to
Any place where there is no
Union to protect the workers,
No regulations to protect the earth.
Opening veins and drinking deep
From the blood of the poor,
The exploited, and abandoned.
Squeezing the middle class
Out of their security, their homes.
Deftly turning us all against ourselves.
Now we go at each other’s throats
With picket signs and chanted slogans,
Guns like fascist fashion accessories.
We’re doing their work for them.
Cheerleader tRump leads his troops
With invective. His failed lawsuits,
Provide him the excuse for an attempt
At coup, the ultimate manifestation
Of the wet dreams of the wealthy.
We congratulate ourselves for electing
The other guy, and quietly pray
That something will change while
St. Reagan smiles from beyond the grave
And American Armageddon inches closer.
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