Saturday 10 December 2016

MARK GRENON (Montreal)


You’ve slathered the world in apoplexy,
ornery oratory, braggadocio,
ultimatums commandeering Greenbackers in a future i.o.u. snafu.
Firing the falconer won’t conceal the falcon knockoff
under the falsetto flaggers, nor will POTUS-prompted Twitter jujitsu,
Captain Carotene, curtail the Great Invisible Wall of your climacteric.
Kowtowers, bluenecks, rednecks, thinking they’re gonna get some payback,
idolize you, mirroring the spectre of your red-hatted alibi,
not knowing the trajectory of your MAGA campaign
(gimmickry, hyperbranding, xenotrolling)
deaf to the arc of its rancor, is that the electorate’s to be betrayed.
Indignant, an ism unto yourself, darksuited, anti-
cogito, constantly clickbaited, ultraphallic
Kickback King, how did you lowjack,
without a clue in hell, the body politic, disavow,
aargh, the zeitgeist of some better America
dying to be born out of this jailbird jeremiad?

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