A Dirge on the Occasion of the Ascension of Der Gropenfurher

Its twilight in America, the false dawn of greatness,
the robber barons have returned,
pillage, plunder and profits for the 1%,

The reign of the small-handed vulgarian has begun,
policy determined by the terrorism of the Tweet,
post-truth, post-news, post-ethics, p***grabbing power by hack.

Its twilight in America,
when the shadows fall,
the view is obscured,
the way is unclear;

But the wheel of history turns round & round, what goes up must come down,
The pumpkin headed dirigible ascends on high, swollen with the swamp gas of pomposity & grandiosity,
But soon, none too soon, the overinflated, bloviator will float back to the ground, down, down, down to the mucky mire from which it crawled.

Twilight is the time for vigil,
for wakefulness and watchfulness, not for slumber
of listening, of waiting, not of despair,
No twilight lasts forever, even night gives way to day.
Every reign of error comes to an end.