Poem: Hurricane Donald

By: Chuck Orloski


Mainstream meteorologists
never saw such Jersey winds brewing
and aimed at the South Carolina coast.
An age old knowledge about
“no W.M.D.s in Saddam’s arsenal”
slipped into even remote shanty barrooms
of the ancient Sandhills.
Hurricane Donald dumped 100% moonshine
upon G.O.P. candidate debate stage
and Jeb heard the rolling dice thunder speak!
All predatory P.A.C. supporters cringed
as Hurricane Donald battered Crusading armies
(April 2003)
while brother George campaigned in a bathtub
and painted a bloody Iraqi (upon knees)
with tips of American lances upon them.

That fateful day over, voters heard
only that Donald has passed,
Cruz and Rubio gave a pretty good show,
official “spin” damage control
and R.N.C. image cleanup underway!
Why does our country tend to barricade
its doors and windows so that even
the simplest jaded breeze of truth
imaginable can not enter?


Categories: Poetry

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