One Last Night at Mar-a-Lago

It's after midnight, but the party, somehow,
Staggers on. The honored guests, a motley
Gang of redneck fools and plutocrats,
Are circling the dance floor with their spouses.
Everything is fine. The planet bakes, but
Hydrocarbon shares are up. The world's
Cowed by threats, and vile oaths, and sanctions.
Those who will not be our toadies understand
That we will cast them from our heaven,
Tailored to enrichen us, into a burning hell
From which they won't emerge. We will
Prevail. God's said it's so, but, in the bushes
By the gate, a crowd assembles. Farther back,
A pair of rather grumpy rivals gesture toward
Their firearms, and whisper, “End this party
Now, and trade your suits for sack cloth,
As we'll soon make prisoners of you.”
The morons and the plutocrats just laugh.
Nobody frightens them, but, in the hours
After midnight, tables turn and drinks are
Spilled. The rivals rush in, guns ablaze,
And as they do, I beg you dear, come
Dance with me a final time. Our way
Of life is done.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 98 times
Written on 2019-06-27 at 03:12

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