The Journey

Song of the Road At Seventy-Two

The Lesser Son Enslaved to Anger

In a New York City urban accent

January 1, 2017––
Anno Domini Christian era New Year's Day
I lay down on the living room hospital bed
And electrically cranked the head rest
Sufficient to watch the Olympic women's 400-meter medley
The favorite: a Hungarian
Her shoulders bigger than mine
And I can dead lift 300 pounds believe me
She's probably––not that good
Three world records
Just broke the Olympic record by two seconds
In the time it took for me to write ten lines
And if you don't think so, count them
If I felt like showing you the page
She’s good––but how would she do against a dolphin?
Even a lousy one, out of shape?
As my bud Donald says, “I don't think-so.”
A lot of people don't think about these things
I know he's a pal because
The sheet of paper rests on the Doonesbury collection YUGE
Otherwise I wouldn't be presently writing this exemplary poem

The book¬––is no great shakes
Cataloguing its subject's outrageous cruelties
Item: the meticulous removal of his dead brother's sick son
From the Trump family’s medical coverage
(‘Brother's son’ defined as ‘nephew’ in genealogical texts
But not legally included as a unit of the Donald T. Trump family)
Because the deceased elder brother's family’s objecting
To the grandfather’s will excluding his equal share
Was deemed horribly unacceptable by the siblings' attorneys
Although the will’s executor, the second son Donald
Had long declared his brother, who drank himself to death,
A great guy, and their father, who wore a fresh suit and tie
Even while in the house all day––was the greatest
And their mother––was the perfect mother, incredible
Who once was heard to brag she praised him early on
For tinkering with an Erector Set
Constructing metal buildings when he was just a little guy
Before he had to be shamed, rejected, sent away in tears
For beating up on his smaller classmates
For hitting the music teacher in a dispute
Made to attend a military boarding school upstate
Where in another fight he tried and failed,
To push a weaker cadet out the dormitory’s
Second-storey window

Yes, so far, it has been several hours of a great new year
Unbelievably amazing, you know what I mean
Because for one thing, thanks to my foresight
Paying P G & E last month
I enjoy the privilege to sit upright on this bed
And write a historical poem

Because the word is coming through today
My bud will assume the mantle of leadership soon
In three weeks, January 20, 2017, my birthday
Though I may not celebrate the Inauguration ceremony
Given the pre-agreed-upon semantic alterations
Addressing the matter of concern, quote:
“I do solemnly swear that I will execute
In the office of the President of the United States
And will to the best of my ability––
Which is beyond belief, believe me––
Preserve, protect, and defend what I judge to be
The Constitution of the United States
With total domination, what a lot of people will be saying
Is textbook psychopathology for the unloved child’s
Unlimited criminal revenge, so help me whoever.”


WJ Ray

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