as He Languishes with Dementia
at Age 83 in the Year 2030
by Albert Haley
Disgusting. Corrupt. Liars!
Who is Melania?
Really, Junior, again?
Tower, tower, tower.
Haters. Where’s Vlad?
Make America grate?
Gold plated and Colonel KFC.
How to spell anything.
Perfect. Ivanka. If she weren’t
my daughter.
Was a time I could have shot someone.
Right in the middle of Fifth!
Wall, we were going to have.
What happened Tim Apple?
Gold plated wall. Good!
Have I said “pussy” yet?
Where’s my phone? Sad.
Me, me, me, my country tis of me.
Do you like this hair?
In the middle of Fifth.
Put a tariff on it.
Put a businessman in
the White House and acquit him.
They rip babies out of mothers
and smother them. Bullshit!
Sharpies predict the weather
better.
But who is this Mitch? Why do I miss
him. Lyin’ Ted sure knew how to lie
down with the lion. Good crew,
kept their heads off the pikes.
Greatest hits. Rallies
and media is enemy of the state.
Some people say. Snow falling.
Told you it was a hoax.
The earth’s cooling—me too?
If they’d only respected
the Second. Right in the middle of Fifth.
Might have spared me
(A-l-z… how you spell?) this.
The focused hot blowtorch
of hatred so carefully cultivated.
Main act in the middle of their circus.
Cancel the failing show
with a ratings bang.
Obama? Birth certificate?
Never saw it. Get him out of here!
Highest form of love
a man like me can ever know.
Albert Haley's poems have appeared previously in New Verse News, Poets Reading the News, and Rattle. He lives and teaches in dry, dusty Abilene, Texas, which at present seems far away from any refreshing blue waves. Haley's poems have appeared previously in TheNewVerse.News, Poets Reading the News, and Rattle. He lives and teaches in dry, dusty Abilene, Texas, which at present seems far away from any refreshing blue waves.
