The two leaders of this nation are a disease: A poem 

I watch the news like a distraught disadvantaged 

with the wildfires rasping in me like a teenager 

A bee in the bonnet is no lyric for my page 

It feels like I’m caught in a shark’s rage 

But fury is a parody to a helpless audience 

Stillborn is rhapsody to a staple of contrivance 

When the soul vows change, but knows not the art 

of how to dispose off the rot in the applecart 

What is the present’s water steaming in the kettle? 

It fills me with nausea like a disease-laden hospital 

The two leaders of this nation are brine in a medicine bottle 

They say they’re good for the nation, but are good too little 

Their treacherous torsos want to run for long 

Their falsities whitewash this country for a song 

And to our refrigerators their groceries belong 

So, we can never cook up the right against the wrong