The Emperor's New Bozos

We are not the fucking tame
The incremental change
The way things stay the same
Fuck all that we take no blame

You want to rule, but I don't care
Your powers exist only in thin air
Waves but a hand and the crowd does stare
Orange buffoon ain't wearing nothing on that stage up there.

The emperor's finery we do declare
Fripperies and frapperies made in China beware

Hegseth, Miller, and Barbie too.
Christy Noem knows what to do.
She'll prep and poise and pose for crew.
All dressed up like her boys in blue

While humanity is soiled in hate,
Those men in cages, she sealed their fate.

The men, their eyes in hollow fear
Gaze out at her, the vacant mirror
Incapable she is of wearing a frown.
The Botox keeps the lines bore down

The guards they stand their faces covered
No sons, no fathers, no husbands, no lovers
Just brutes, the force, the hand of state
Thugs, one and all, grim death incarnate

El Salvador. The swamps. The goddamn Sudan.
Where the fuck else are they executing this plan

A man died of their hands yesterday, or was it today?
I don't even know. Does it matter this way or that? Or this or then, or they?
Nothing makes sense. And that I can say.

The headlines go by in whispers of code
She hides from it all, her art - the safety, a gentling node
It's too much to take, the future's forebode

A woe, a foe, a golden toad
But poisonous you see, he still wants a kiss so a prince he'll be

But pepe, a good faith, he never could be
Lies, deceit, and cunning were his mettle and sheen
Promised a prince then murdered a queen
Warped and rapacious, he wants to be king

Years later, we say their names like a creed
His name was Eric Garner
He said I can't breathe

Trayvar Martin, a kid with a coke
The rainbow candies, the ones that spell hope
Struck down by a vigilante's "nope"
A lynching's a lynching by gun or by rope

Sandra Bland, in back of a van
Supposedly died by her own hand

The bold beautiful Diamond, she watched her man die
Pulled over by cops just being the ride
At least that's what I thought. I never could tell.
Was it even the driver they put through this hell?

A babe in the back seat
Do I remember that right
Even if not. It wouldn't be the first nor the last time a Black man died in his child's sight

And then there's the migrants. Always picking up slack.
His name is Garcia. We just got him back
Now, the fascists they're trying to give him the sack
This is for your protection, they're heard to say, we'll lock you up to throw the key away

Who am I not naming
There's more than a few
This list it just grows
Ever fresh, ever new

It's like living in wartime, the list and the rolls
The bodies come back. It's like reading the polls
Did Letitia survive? Will Johnny come too?
Have they all been put to work like Slavery Round Two

For the plantations are back, if this you did not see
Brought to us by the rough ravaged face of the worst Kennedy
Autistics and addicts and ADHD
All fuel for his fodder, for his farms, for his weed

And then there's the emperor, the baby supreme
He rants and he whines, he thinks he's a king
He literally spoke in the royal "we"
While declaring those weren't his kingly decrees

A brief interlude for a nod to Bon Jovi:
Shot through the foot and you're to blame, Donald Trump, you give Americans a bad name

The lessons coming in fast at total speed.
The problem is that fucker never learned to read
Briefings, reports, and missions too.
Not as important as the Fox News zoo

And then there's Signal, holy fuck
But what about her emails?!
Our national security is running on luck.
Goddamn, what fucking schmucks.

Thugs in the street, kidnappings for days
Impersonating cops, these are their ways.
Both for the civvie and for the state
The disguise is carrying double weight.

I mean, it's cool that I can smoke all the weed that I want
But liberty is in flames and freedom's a front
For I can be taken at any time for daring to speak.
What is on my mind and taking it neat.

The list of First They Came For
Has started anew
And damn it's a long one
Interested parties, more than a few.