Bemoaning all the folks who fail to vote,
as if the chads and checkmarks were a choice,
perhaps it’s time to look around and note
how weak and unregarded is our voice.
The jerk who (maybe) won had one appeal –
he promised change – to drain the swamp and more –
and though we know he’ll never do that deal,
excreting words and actions we deplore,
still no one wants the old guard back again.
We’d sooner sink the ship of state than that.
The nation limps, the arctic melts, and men
attempt to keep the scepter and the fat.
It’s far too late to seal the boundaries;
our vision must include antipodes.