National emergency

Caligula or Nero?
The comparison is apt —
He’s a bulging petty tyrant
Whose mind has clearly snap’t.

A solipsistic toddler
Who thinks the country’s his
To play with as he chooses
Making money for his biz.

Negotiate and compromise?
That’s a sucker’s game.
He’d rather pout and rant and tweet
And stridently proclaim

A national emergency
(It plays well with his base)
And undermine democracy
To save his sorry face.

And all his sniv’ling sycophants
In congress and the press
Pat his back and kiss his bum
For they could not care less

If constitutional governance
Would just evaporate —
Then listen to what praise they’ll bleat
For America the Great.

Buff Whitman-Bradley’s new book is At the Driveway Guitar Sale, from Main Street Rag Publishing. He podcasts poems on aging, memory, and mortality at thirdactpoems.podbean.com and lives in northern California with his wife, Cynthia. Read other articles by Buff.