Donald Trump (and his kind)

He takes his shadows with him
as he moves through the light
He wanders in the grain fed pastures
as if the world was his to tear
He sits judgement on those who
do not see his points of view
and rotates smiles with 
hidden agendas that blink messages
of false hope and true hate
He announces himself at state dinners
and cajoles the wedding guests to 
second guess the groom and bride
while dumping cake onto their spoons
and dust into their eyes

What to do, what to do,
with a guy like this, 
who mobs and dodges and 
wrings and scares?

Set him up like a bowling pin
and clobber him down the stairs?

 

Janet Turpin Myers

(March 14, 2016)

By | 2017-06-30T13:15:20+00:00 June 29th, 2017|Poems|0 Comments

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