Surreality

Some surreal certainty suffices
to turn turgid temerity toward
ponderous political pronouncements
exhorting exceptional extremes.

Another asshole assessing America
finding fearful followers
groking gargantuan goals:
crime, corruption, Clinton.

Lying liars laying legerdemain
on odious obligers
who wishfully, whitely, wander
behind bellicose belligerence.

Trumpets trace tearful transcendence
down dreadful dialectic drifts
quite queer quislings
upend unending unities.

Nowhere nations naturally name
itinerate idiots idolizing
joking jesters jettisoning junk,
metastasizing miracles:
ludicrous, lazy, loquacious, lugubrious.

Killers keep
ridiculous riots repeating,
vile vicious victories
which would wreck

xenophobes
young, yearning yobs,
zealots, zeroes.

Why yes, this is a political poem, because the “conservative” movement is completely off the rails and flirting with fascism worldwide, and in the US is stripping off its clothes and getting ready to get into bed with it. Also: I like alliteration.

About TJ

Scientist, engineer, inventor, writer, poet, sailor, hiker, canoeist, father.
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