Industry and progress wait their turn on Death row; medicine to cure the globe expires
The call-to-arms, yet rallies cry for green.
The death of knowledge must be met with ire;
Enlightened masses speak collective truth.
Hypotheses built shakily on lies,
These ill-conceived refusals condemn youth
To dwindling nature and its gas-choked skies!
Demand for reverence for facts unites
The physicists and priests alike. Unjust,
To kill all hope to grow a jobs sound bite.
The grassroots grow wherever causes must.
Denying evidence for bottom lines
Will make us all canaries in the mine.
One tweet from before the fail, one after Distracting from the legislative slump; While we wait for what happens hereafter, We recount the inventory of Trump. Ivanka’s clan escapes certain disaster, To Aspen’s slopes, and her father’s dismay. For Trump, repeal too arduous a task; ACA lives to see another day. The unprecedented demagogue speaks Words of assurance to the populace; He assures them of his big plans, in tweets. There is no bottom to his pompousness. He’s claims they’re strides to come, these grave missteps, As dissenters berate him as inept. —OS, NN, JD
Just yesterday, a predecessor framed:
Trump tried the notion that his phone was tapped.
His finances are secret yet, for shame,
But not his crackpot slander via app.
Obama’s standard-bearer shouted, “False!”
Trump’s aides denied concurrence with his claim.
And, wielding typo-riddled tweets, Trump waltzed
Right on, to make a federal case—insane!
The waxing gyre of fake news cycles spins,
He lobs new propositions sans citation,
Dismisses press with that “You’re fired!” and grins—
The unreality show that is our nation!
And though tweets are not yet state’s evidence,
His fabricated lies spread pestilence.
— OS, NN, JD
A judge, met with the superlative grump,
To ensure that hatred would not prevail,
Reversed the notion made by Donald Trump: Discrimination on a “yuuuge” scale.
A nation-state working against itself,
Tearing its binding at the seams within,
Like an unread book, aging on a shelf,
Our country’s scriptured pages grow too thin.
For travelers suddenly grounded afar,
A brief window of happy chance arose.
Now as they fly again toward our bright stars,
Two branches of the state are contraposed.
But where with humane law Trump disagrees,
Checks must be balanced for eternity.
—NN, OS, JD