GloPoWriMo: Day 15

legs

They Say Poetry and Politics Don’t Mix

They say the orange guy
puts his pants on
like everybody else–
One leg at a time.

Don’t believe it.

He lies on his back
on the king-sized bed
and kicks his legs
into the air
like a baby
or a happy yogi
so that topless dancers,
two of them,
one for each leg,
can pull his pants on
for him–
both legs at the same time.

He lives in a world
with a population
of one,

His ego.

Not even Ivanka
lives there,
for she,
like Melania,
like Barron,
like the two topless dancers,
like all of us,
are simply
fixtures of his
imagination.

We’re a little
too tame
for his own good.

In his world,
resources are endless,
and we all exist
to be used or fired.

He will meet
the same end
as the rest of us.
And when he goes,
what will he leave behind?

A villain’s paradise,
or an angel’s hell?

Daily Prompt: Write “a poem in which a villain faces an unfortunate situation, and is revealed to be human (but still evil),” from the Na/GloPoWriMo site.

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