So, they got him. Eventually. Attritionally. Finally.
The lifelong anti-racist hoisted on the biggest irony
That politics could muster. One weak point, and blindly
He stroked his beard too long. And thoroughly, decidedly
Blew it.
Caught between the rascal rocks of politricks and policy,
Red-ringed, rope-doped, the mud chucked stuck and suddenly
He was done. Nobody told him so; he carried on. We sighed as
he
Carried on. Too late. It’s gone. To think there was a time
when we
Believed in
A newer, gentle politics. No dice, no chance. Because instead
A man who maybe fucked a dead pig’s head
Did the same to the country. And, boy, since then
There’s been two years of bullshit, no movement when
We needed
More than a figurehead; more than momentum.
We needed each other, but there was a schism
And instead we argued. And thus is the rhythm
Of established falsehoods, the familiar idiom
Repeated.
So they got him. But still, hanging on, banging on,
He abides. Like a terrible Superbowl ad riffing on
A glorious past; inglorious pastiche. It’s all gone, it’s
all done.
The country’s on fire now. The world’s not got long
It seems.
Twitter, Facebook, Instagram heroes
Memes of vituperative desperadoes
See that the emperor really does wear clothes
And sometimes the mirror tells lies. But we all know
That too.
They got him. He’s caught out. There’s nothing to add.
The party’s fucked too, and if only we really had
Stomped on the problem with haste, well. We’d not have
Had to despair of our own magic granddad
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