poeming on a rainy Monday

 


bringing it all together,
the rain falling 
(that should be snow)
January warm and misty 
and filled with already 
budding fruit trees 

and the orange man who 
shouldn't be sitting 
where he sits, the table 
of grownups thinking 
they run the world

and now maybe he thinks 
he can control the weather,
that if it just gets said 
enough times in all caps 
on Twitter that climate 
change will disappear 

and the business of making 
piss appear golden, showering 
the faithful with alternate 
truths instead of the big fat 
fecal matter lie that they 
swallowed, will be enough 

look impressive enough 
to make us forget that we're 
drowning while all around us 
the bodies they've already 
buried are waiting to rise 

glory glory, hallelujah 
a day of reckoning 
coming at long last 
because we are finally 
ready to start punching 
some motherfucking nazis