Trump Eve, All Tomorrows

“Wake up, orange man. It’s time to lead.”

On the eve of descent
those of them skeptics
find little class in the bottle
But it’s where we belong
whether half or full and
defiantly at the bottom
There is a reset, but
on this eve we can’t
hit a blow most foul hard enough so
Think about the injuns
slain, fewer votes seen
all worse than you or
Try this new thing where
people do the best to
reconcile the wicked
Understand that a verdict
is permanent, so permanent
until it is undone
But not on this eve, not
the last night where
once we slept some ease
knowing it’s gonna be a few