The Monster

There’s a monster on the loose. A proud monster, at that. I warn you of this news because it’s planning an attack. It is dangerously doltish, but it calculates its strikes. When it doesn’t get its way, it places blame on broken mics. This monster is a maniac. Like a five-year-old it likes to act. Throwing tantrums, shading Kap. With its words, it throws us back to when whips were cracked and skin was torn and bloody-backs were billboards looked upon with scorn advertising forlorn. And throws us back four score to lynch mobs post-World-War, blood and gore. This orange orc loves The Blacks in a world where he is blue. That world is not this and this world is not its. It is old and creepy, scaly, peel-y. Nasty, gross, and touchy-feely. By touchy-feely, I am meaning The Monster was exposed last evening. For doing things I don’t believe in. Vile, disgusting, terrible stuff. Laughing with Billy about harassing women like Billy Goats Gruff. The Monster gets away with this because it is allowed. This monster to a troll compares. With its orange skin and yellow hair. It reposes in a slimy film. Its lips are slits, its eyes empty, vacant, void. Lying and cheating, being smart, it makes its way to the stage to stalk its prey. This monster’s messy pompadour is dripping with hot greed. It sets itself on fire after drinking gasoline. Then whines that it has been set up, the other kids are mean. It schemes and scams and waves its hands and spits and raps and pastors tap and it spews hate as hatred claps. It talks big and walks big and everything is huge. It cannot own up to crimes for which it’s been accused. It doesn’t have to. There’s a monster on the loose. But make a joyful noise. This monster can do everything but take away your choice. It tries to cover up your mouth but you still have a voice. So scream! This monster wants the White House…

The Monster

[Originally Published October 8, 2016]