by Rick Young | Jan 20, 2021 | Poem
Our sinking ship has made it back to shore.
With Ahab gone, things just might be o.k.
Get all his seasick sailors off the floor.
And look forward to sail another day.
The white whale we’ve been chasing for four years
today submerged and migrated down south.
He’d breached the waters of our deepest fears
with lies that spilled like krill out of his mouth.
But now the hunt for power has been ended,
the waters that surround us calm and clear.
The boat and mast successfully defended,
we’d like to think a time of peace is near.
by Rick Young | Jan 20, 2021 | Poem
He’s still got his mitts on the nuclear codes until noon.
He’s up in the air like the devil may care, the buffoon.
If he sends the command to a nuclear sub,
D.C. just disappears in the bay, glub, glub, glub.
In this next two hours, he could have his say,
and possibly blow all the blue states away.
He said he’ll be back, perhaps in a new form.
His last campaign could well be called “U.S. Storm.”
There won’t be a sigh of relief until he
is disarmed and deposited in history.
As long as he still has his hands on the button,
we’re all meat to him, fried chicken and mutton.
