blood brothers

Launch Codes

Flouncing like some boisterous queer

in a pride parade featuring

half-shell ego and danger,

the Candidate makes

orange, flashy threats.

Women, at last demonstrating

the fulsome bloom of wisdom

which will absolve them

once and for all of that baseless

charge from fairy tale Eden,

declare a precise

and astringent hatred.

The money changers,

fearing another visit from some

pissed off internet-age Jesus,

instinctively check their

tax haven balances

- and their genitals.

Generals, 

tamping down 

Strangelove tendencies,

make vague and croaking noises

involving logic

and doves.

Somewhere to the east

nursing a hang over from

binging on kidnapped starlets

and designer drugs

a thirty-something

buzz-cut madman

finally makes the decision

that has been coming like an

Auschwitz bound freight

ever since he poisoned

his coward daddy.