ImPotus (May, 2020) White, with fingers gray as grubs, he points-- And with a digit, stifles or anoints. With blabbing lies, he jabberslimes the stage And smothers sense and sanity with rage. Surrounded by a gang of unmasked thugs He preaches bleach and charlatannic drugs. Lackeys scramble to confirm his wish, Gutting science like a sea-warmed fish. He pounds the pulp and pulpit to a mess: A corrugated congregated yes. In this bleach-bland land, the ranking hacks Kneel on the necks of single unarmed blacks.
by Lyn Coffin