Source: Seattle Times |
In the beginning
He pardoned all the seditionists.
Now the nation was barren and shapeless,
darkness was upon the land
and He said, “Let there be lies,”
and there were lies.
He saw the lies were good
and He separated the lies from the truth.
He called the lies “truth”
and He called the truth “lies.”
And there was evening
and there was morning—
the first day
And He said, "Let me stop the wildfires
scorching the pretty landscaping
and those expensive houses.
I know some people in L.A., some
very wealthy, well-connected people."
And He released with almighty force
from his gullet a torrent of water pressure
the likes of which no man had beheld.
And the fires stopped burning.
And He saw this was good
and there was evening
and there was morning—
the second day
And He said, "Let the illegal immigrants
in the land be returned whence they came."
So with a gust of His great breath
He swept them all up in a glorious gale
and blew back to homelands the vermin,
scattered like so much feed.
And He saw this was good
and there was evening
and there was morning—
the third day.
And He said, "Let me build a big beautiful wall
And He saw it was a good wall,
a great wall, better than China’s,
The Greatest Wall Of All Time
that anyone has ever seen anywhere
on Earth or any planet in our
Solar System or even in all of Space,"
and there was evening
and there was morning—
the fourth day.
And He said, "Let me stop the war in Ukraine."
And a great swathe of his carefully—
coiffed hair sent all the soldiers
toppling like toys back into their
respective sovereign countries
(with Russia gaining great areas
of formerly Ukrainian land)
and the bloodshed ceased
like the last lilting notes
of cherubs’ trumpeted fanfare.
And He saw this was good
(for Putin and Himself, anyway)
and there was evening
and there was morning—
the fifth day.
And He said, "Let me drill, baby, drill!"
So with tremendous huffing and puffing
He had an angel, a female one, fluff
His manhood until it stood,
a tower of steel shining in the sun,
and He poked it in and pulled it out
with enduring virility
until he had poked
many a holy hole
deep into the Earth’s womb
and into 625 million acres
of preserved coastal seawaters
and the nation became richer with crude.
And the land and great numbers
of its people were crude.
And He saw this was good
and there was evening
and there was morning—
the sixth day.
And on the 7th day
He played golf and he cheated.
Once upon a time, Michael Dorian had a collection of poems and a play in one act published by Silk City Press entitled "The Nektonic Facteur.” He likes to think that when the going gets tough, the tough write poems.