On June 16, 2015, the heavens opened and descending
effortlessly on a crystal flight of stairs, gliding down
among a handpicked adoring throng, the emperor,
in a brand-new suit arrived to claim his throne.
All decked out in his ego’s desperate need for praise,
he took the oath of office on January 20, 2017,
barely shrouded in a gossamer vapid veil of glitz.
The emperor has been undressing before the camera ever since,
taking off his clothes one item at a time, a game of spin the bottle
in which the spinning bottle always points to him,
although he doesn’t seem to notice the heap of ugly self-disclosures
piled around him on the floor, the unAmerican, antidemocratic, racist,
xenophobic, Islamophobic rhetoric as he quickly passes from
completely nude to stark raving naked.
How many layers of filmy hate does this overdressed man have on?
Just when we thought he couldn’t get more naked,
when not another layer of self-deception could come off,
on January 3, 2021 he stripped for the Attorney General of Georgia,
both unseen and unsound, begging for help to adjust his orange merkin.
But wait, there’s more.
On January 6 he encouraged a mob to strip naked at the Capitol.
In spite of the cold, there was ample evidence of insurrection.
Don’t go limp, he told them. Stand up for your right to be white
and privileged. Democracy is just a cover-up for letting the great
American rainbow to have its way. Then he shuddered from the cold,
shuttered the White House windows, blocked the doors, and wandered
the lonely halls dressed to the nines in naked megalomaniac ambition.
What tailor will dress a client who doesn’t know he’s nude?