How Do You Like Your Big Boy Now

from daddy’s bloated
silver plates
to big shots
and potentates
from tall towers and
limousines
to scary blaring
magazines

from sharpened
helicopter blades
to spectacles
and promenade
flags waving
in your face
and stupid
all over the place

from insult talk
and blather mouth
to border bigots
north and south
from ugly
to uglier still
choking on a
dollar bill

super patriotic
thugs
red white and blues
and other drugs
watch him whip the
angry mob
to go on out and
do the job

inflated orange baby
moons
and angry diaper
tycoon balloons
high above
the pitchfork crowd
i can hear them
shout out loud

my country tis of
tattered rags
and empty broken
paper bags
the mirror on the
shattered shelf
i don’t even recognize
myself

the fires of the
rising sun
will shine and burn on
everyone
and scare the darkness
into fits
and that’ll be the
end of it

and we will spread the
love around
tamp the dirt and keep
it down
then we’ll wipe our hands
on our pants
and we’ll all go out
and dance