Monied changers no longer haunt temples; counting
tables have become boardrooms and stock exchange;
specie is digitized, inflated by projected calving, and
no one’s a bigger Lord than He who’s self-anointed.
From the opening salvo of His campaign, carried
downward on a golden escalator, We the People
should have sensed the future envisioned by this
charlatan of created chaos; compromised promises.
This flim-flam man’s great challenge is the shell-game
He plays with Democracy: spinning verbal figure-eights,
avoiding truth and culpability, mesmerizing the rubes
with shallow wit and casting aspersions like loaded dice.
Hypocrisy used to be apostasy, but has become His norm;
religious cults proliferate condemning all except their own
as this bloated behemoth capitalizes on spurious diatribes
designed to intimidate His enemies and instigate His mob.
On the altar of His lies He prepares to sacrifice us all to
brand His own self-worth with inflationary zeal, bidding
His zealots support an apocalyptical demise of freedom, and
elevate Him to the golden throne of dictatorial demagoguery.
The new Lord’s in His heaven and all’s right with His world.