Poem -

Sans sixth (psychic) sense...

poise zen dystopian rant

Sans sixth (psychic) sense...

This prognosticator doth predict
potential based at current rate
sinister debacle that will
instantaneously annihilate,
United States storied republic,
which alarming horror
points to instantaneous annihilation
of America the beautiful;
(ohm my dog) turbulent
endemic chaotic spate
within human race poised to strike
doom and generate
shock tummy once
amp pull goldenlocks,
now revealing a shiny baldpate
erratic behavior attendant prescient
intimations presage apocalyptic fate
while current commander in chief
didst unwittingly generate,
and sow the seeds of anarchy sparking
global conflagration that will create
instantaneous prime evil
total mortal kombat,
cuz "FAKE" mandate
issued, when Trump went ballistic
loose sing rockets red glare,
when pressing hot button to demonstrate
thermonuclear supremacy,
(albeit a moot point),
would render superfluous need to late
to draft intestate
last (or perchance first, second,
third...) will and testament, tete a tete
perhaps minuscule (nee infinitesimal) bomb
turns out a dud (Amazon, Toys "R" Us
Walmart, or store
of choice reject) aye narrate
finding Don irate
(blaming "crooked Hillary," democrats,
gumby...yours truly...)
the list goes on, thus no need to iterate,
thus a sudden religious fervor gripped
the wide webbed world
attributing why weapons did not actuate
which found pontiff in high demand
in an attempt to accommodate
frenzied zeal attributing aborted blitzkrieg
to divine intervention with bajillion
talking heads airing where to dedicate
material trappings to indigent, great
full not dead, plus those petty
criminals rightly or wrongly,
the strong arm of
lanced law did incarcerate
bowed down on daily and nightly basis
exploding huzzahs every
human did ejaculate
"not prematurely," where
all walks of life did integrate,
a spontaneous international
utopian revelation awoke
with linkedin diversity to promulgate
protecting the planet took precedence
yea right Matthew Scott - dear mate
only in the context of
this poem I did create
on December twenty third
two thousand eighteen,
and now hemming and hawing
CANNOT wait,

thus conscientious, fractious, and incautious,
members of the electorate
must not shirk their role
as arbiters of life, liberty,
and the pursuit of happiness
obliging themselves obeisance
to the fifteenth amendment
of the United States Constitution,
which prohibits the federal government
and each state from denying
or abridging a citizen's right to vote
"on account of race, color,
or previous condition of servitude,"
when said legal resolution
ratified on February 3, 1870,
as the third and last
of the Reconstruction Amendments
cuz the wise ghost of Abraham Lincoln
did not procrastinate.

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