(inspired by Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s Bird With Two Right Wings )
By Christopher J. Jarmick
And now our President
an orange with two tiny thumbs
tweets on his fancy phone; Sad! Lies! Bad!
- -while we try to keep our sanity
through each breaking news story,
as if it really mattered what the big Orange T
Tweets, or what the Conway double talks or the Spiceman denies
(Everybody is lying, you idiot).
While this mogul with tiny thumbs
tweets on , his favorite Fox plays nearby.
And now he thinks Ted is lying.
And now its Crooked Hillary’s fault.
And now Obama and fake news.
And he keeps changing the plot of the story.
And now it’s the left wingers, and now the hard right
And now the fake news wringers with perfect straight teeth.
We can even see him through the curtain
playing with his phone
promoting the bigoted liar
to be boss of the judges;
picking the climate change denier
to be in charge of the environment;
making the famous doctor who once drove by a ghetto
in charge of urban housing and development
(it’s easier than brain surgery after all).
Now guess who is in charge of crucial international diplomacy?
Why it’s Vladimir’s favorite oil Executive of course, who else?
And all this happens while we just sit
on our couches in front of TV’s that spy on us
flipping from reality New Jersey, Atlanta and Beverly Hills housewives,
to human sharks, to survivors, to celebrity apprentices
and sometimes we even watch the sexually harassed
long-legged blondes playing referee
with ex- government employees now being paid
to mock debate how thetiny thumb tweets
will make America Great Again.
On Banon, On Kushner, On Priebus and
Goldmanite Sach’o’shits,
with Spicer, with Ryan, with Generals
and precious Ivanka,
Tweet away, dash away all
and to all
a gold golf club and long red tie
made in J’ina --
which rhymes with Vagina
with a G for Government City
which sometimes is in Florida, sometimes D.C.
but that trouble isn’t for the big Orange T
who watches out for his fantastic family,
no, this big T is trouble for you
and trouble for me,
and spells out our
manifest destiny.
Which means
Dear Virginia,
the clean coal
Santa slips
into your stocking
is providing jobs
to some Hillbillies
until the one percenters
realize that robots
can do it cheaper.
And King Orange T junior, the second
fills up the moats
that surrounds his palace, you see
with the blood of a billion
refugees.