Nightly TV two-mouthed
Striped and pointing
In four toned shoes
In Macon in Chattanooga
Sculling in a blitz
Reaching a god-like hand
Hanging microphones
Like mantis arms
Staked up high
Urging unturned
And crucial enough
Or cruciate because
Of Waco’s drive
To warrior hunt
With chopping arms
The two-fingered hands
Blind teeth and pink tongue
Befurred he and she
One suit one leaning skirt
One eyebrow arched
Pushing back bangs
Oh geez two grins
One white star
A wall of TV tiles
Hoops like golden beer cans
Bobbing over yellow marks
A text-stabbed African American
Under five-o stars
Getting ready to vomit
In a grizzled Van Dyke
Pink tie mike
Ready to take on
The birthright slam
Duck walk back
The midterm glares
For news the back row
Says king me with
An eight pointed star
Pin me with herald and shield
Not so safe as we
Always thought this
Lost dog called democracy
Maybe that old dog will wander home next Tuesday, right after the cows come home.
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Or the chickens…
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