Once upon a time
A man with a mission
Said “Fuck this institution;
I’ll live by my own constitution.”
At first
He was like a joker
Causing an uproar
Just to get more and more
More
Until he came knocking
On our front
Doors
His followers
Became
More and more united
While the rest of us
Became
More and more divided
He led the way
With lies and hyperboles
Firing up all the
Fringe devotees
Turning them into
Crazed thugs and bullies
He told us not to
Believe what we were seeing
In front of our eyes
If asked when the hour was
Of our demise
This was it:
When
The Truth
Was Lies
Four years passed
Destruction scorched his path
Day after day
Hour after hour
His Twitter pitter patter
Power
Grew louder and
Louder
Enough of us
Had had enough
And begged for
Another –
Almost anyone –
But this Clown of a
Devil man
Suited up
In orange
Spray tan
We found a kind
Replacement
Imperfect as any
Human can be
Yet
All the while he wore
Good intentions
On his sleeve
He even rightfully
Gained enough
Votes to win
By
More than just
A narrow
Margin
In those days we could finally
Swap
Tears and fears
For cheers
We grinned
We danced
We clanked our beers
Yet the Clown Devil
Wouldn’t let well enough be
He fired up his base
Again
Inundating them
With more B.S.
Than could fill a cess
Pool
And sent one final invitation ‒
Inspired by
An invention of
His endless
Seditionist imagination
So surely they believed
That he’d won fair and square
And wouldn’t give up ‘til
That final invitation
Was indeed
A manifestation of
His dare
Unhinged, chaotic, wild,
And free
Determined
To undefile
And defend
Their chosen One’s un-victory
They released all their daggers
Arrows and
Pain
From their Clown Devil’s
Baseless claims
Onto the Capitol
Distraught with fear
And dismay
Our representatives
Felt, for the very
First time, how
Alt-facts and lies
Can lead people astray
Felt the fear
Regular citizens
Feel everyday
Simply by going to
Church, school, or
Even a play
The Clown Devil man,
Just like any Evil Despot,
Let his minions do the dirty work
But, he himself?
Walked away
With bloodless hands
By a mass seduction,
Through a multitude of
Big, bold
Whoppers and cheese
Fueled his loyal blind sheep
To manifest his initial mission
And we call this long due boiling up
Act of insurrection
Fruition