Dead swab carcass on the dashboard
Unlike Castro’s boots
They don’t fit
Chess men
Yes men
All pawns
No matter the rank
Moon-high
Insect ground level
Violation of The Hotdog Act
No votes for you
Boots on the ground
CUBA- red sands Atlantis
Castro with Jane Fonda wearing nothing but the dictator’s boots
Slipping in chairs during cabinet meetings
The swollen ankle orange emperor’s feet fit
Just fine
Boots on the ground
Two pairs of socks
Desert storms in Iran
Under the guise of holy war
Gas station woes
Mother Russia dripping crude
Between her thighs
West coast drone attack
Oncoming
Was it- the reds? The Jihadists? The cartel? The State? Deep state?
Nah, never the state
Midterm mayhem canceled
Keep the people safe
Lucky lottery shoes
Everyone in the cabinet has a pair
Some may some may not
No complaints there but thoughtful head bows and bashful gratitude
To be anointed
With oil
A likely successor
Between advancement and the Rubicon
Shoes don’t fit in this warzone of debris
To come without shoes
Son of a refugee
Like Paul Bunyan
Johnny Appleseed
John Henry
Tony Montana making it right
AmeriKKKan dreaming
Twisted mouth messiah complex
BLACK PHILLIP
The billygoat
FOR PLANETARY
PRESIDENTial-EMPEROR PLEASE
Curves & sanctions
It’s all just a cult
Mike Zone is the Editor in Chief of Dumpster Fire Press, the author of Fuck You: A Fucking Poetry Chap, Shedding Dark Places (almost), One Hell of a Muse , as well as coauthor of The Grind. A frequent contributor to Alien Buddha Press and Mad Swirl. His work has been featured in: Horror Sleaze Trash, Better Than Starbucks, Piker Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, Outlaw Poetry and Cult Culture magazine.
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