The K poem.

Knocking about with karma, wondering when we might get a break
(terza rima)

I am so fucking tired
the gentleman has died, and the country’s a mess
succumbed to rule by the uninspired

No chance for redress
the gentleman has taken all his secrets to the grave
leaving us here to fidget and obsess

Right now, it’s hard to be brave
the gentleman has died, while we go to pieces—
the evidence is all over the airwaves

Sometimes the universe is so capricious
as ugly twists go, this is one of her masterpieces

(10 November 2016—posted November 11th)