Here is “The Great Healthcare Plan,” The finest concept known to man. No need to think of how this works Or who this helps and who this hurts.
This policy is the greatest, most wonderful healthcare dream, The biggest savings anyone has ever known or seen. We’ll slash the drugs, making deals with forced consent, By three hundred, four hundred — five hundred percent!
We can’t pay off the middle men, That’s up to you to do, my friend. If you need more to make you well, Then just follow our plan, straight to… well… straight to where I might one day dwell.
The pick and roll is part of play, And catch what coach has got to say. But there’s a more important task: Collecting bags of major cash.
You miss the shot, you miss the rim, While placing bets outside the gym. We take the bribe to slip and fall, No cap, it’s part of basketball.
We fill the jerseys up with green, The wildest flex you’ve ever seen. We pray the Feds don’t watch the game, Or we’ll get cooked and take the blame.
It’s great to hang with looks that slay, To drive the whips and soak the rays. To hit the clubs and play the field, To party hard and never yield.
But danger lurks in losing games, Not from the fans or public shame: Don’t leave behind some mid-wit tell, That turns your set-up into some cringey, grungy, hoopless cell.
My country with the hair of inlaid fiber-optic cable With the thoughts of a backed up four-lane freeway at dusk With the waist of a redwood in the center of a scenic bypass My country with the lips of blinking Christmas lights With lips of teabags of silt from the Great Lakes With the teeth of a picket fence on a shifting, slumping shoreline With the tongue of a ticker tape parade on celluloid stock My country with the tongue of a televised courtroom With the tongue of a satellite that spies in dark silence With the tongue of a cracked bell that just rings and rings on command With the eyelashes of high-tension wires With brows of the edge of a sold-out stadium My country with the brow of a blue light under the sheets And of the steam rising from an executive sauna fifty stories high My country with shoulders of interstate concrete And of a hydroelectric dam holding back the stars My country with fingers of a ballot box—contested, sticky, messy Of a strewn deck of plastic cards My country with armpits of coal dust and scented bubble tea Of suburban sprawl and the nest of a bald eagle in a cell tower With arms of Mississippi tributaries and of a thousand assembly lines And of a mingling of the cornfield and ambushed migrant workers My country with legs of elusive wildfires With the movements of a swing state and a jazz festival My country with calves of sequoia bark My country with feet of broken treaties and numbered amendments With feet of subway tracks and tourists flicking coins into canyons My country with a neck of unharvested wheat My country with a throat of pulsing fiber and high-powered cooling fans Of a protest stage-shrieking in the bed of a dry river With breasts of the Appalachian night My country with breasts of a multi-story shopping mall Of a ghost town shadowed by the noonday sun My country with the belly of a thumb-scrolled digital map With a back of an abandoned silver screen My country with the back of a cruise ship climbing into the stratosphere With a nape of red clay and cooling asphalt And of the threads of a smudged napkin on a diner counter at 3:00 AM My country with hips of a barreling NextGen Acela With hips of a county rodeo and of Friday night tossed penalty flags Of a pendulum swinging between fairground stand food and Michelin starred dining My country with buttocks of Civil War reenactments Of a buttocks of uncirculated library books Of a buffalo nickel gifted to a grandchild My country with the loins of an offshore drill and of grocery store pharmacy Of prairie grass and vintage baseball cards My country with loins of theme park hydraulic launch coasters My country with ears full of rotating sirens Of ears of the Great Prairies and fast food in the car Of eyes of parabolic, steerable radio telescopes My country with eyes of a flatscreen TV left on at night With eyes of a forest gasping for breath…
The eyes of my country turned toward we, the people Hands held out for an answer, cuffed and arrested for expediency.
Release the files but just in part — Deception’s Pathway lies Too raw for Headline’s hungry Spark The whole would scandalize As Cards dealt from some hidden Deck With watching eyes confined The Truth must flame out gradually To hide the Guilt entwined —
They loaded files on Friday night, Though not the total lot; The press was vexed by partial truths But that is what we got.
On Saturday fifteen were gone — One noticed from before: A president in gilded frame — A photo in a drawer.
What this all means to common folk Escapes my simple mind When wealth can build a mighty wall That shields them from their crime —
And if a few are put in jail That does us little good For those that still control the wealth Will raise the price of food.
The message here is pretty clear And one that fits my rhyme That money spent judiciously Protects — even the damnedest — most despicable — devils of our time.
I never liked them anyways And THEY ALWAYS came with a safety cap for something that’s not now very safe
The bottle always asserted its authority just two wait this long if you really want more
Treated me like a child even though it said “extra strength”
I am not pregnant that’s hard for a man particularly in their sixties but what’s not good for a goose is maybe even worse for a gander.
I live with pain constantly Bad neighbors Bad news and so — pretty bad headaches…
I can easily explore better options no warnings on dosages I well know what works well and even if I have a brutal headache the next morning and mess up the car driving At least I had me some fun.
Discrimination lies with concentration Machinations, machinations equilibrium staggers— Smell the breath of industry—intoxicated fumes Has the ignition point been reached? Atomize before the vestigial globules are digested and Odovacar pulverizes the wall
In a political landscape where the entertainment factor often overpowers any sense of expected reality, the latest episode of governmental theater features none other than tech mogul Elon Musk and President Donald Trump. The duo’s latest escapade? A bureaucratic blunder of epic proportions that saw Musk inadvertently firing the President, only to hastily reinstate him.
It all began when Musk, after missing three days of sleep, dividing his time between stranding much-needed aid in route to save lives across the world and creating numerous offspring with multiple Ai-selected partners, doubled down on his efforts to implement total Government Efficiency
Armed with his signature blend of an annoying disposition and a chainsaw, Musk set out to further escalate his total trimming of governmental fat by focusing on those that didn’t respond to his demand of submitting a list of “five accomplishments this week” and those that appeared to have incorporated governmental fat into their own personal corporeal structure.
The ever-busy President Trump, always the multitasker, found himself entangled in a web of executive orders, golf games, and social media tirades. In the self-created chaos, he neglected to submit his accomplishment list to DOGE. True to his word, Musk, with the efficiency of an overzealous algorithm, identified the oversight and issued a termination notice. The nation was left in a state of bewilderment as the news broke: the President had been fired by his own appointee.
Upon further review, one of Musk’s DOGE members, 25 year-old Marko Elez, clarified that Trump’s termination wasn’t merely a clerical issue. Among the primary reasons cited: an “excessive dedication” to golf, spending more time in Florida than in Washington, and, most troubling, an apparent lack of support and loyalty for the President of the United States.
“I did a poll of my fans on X and, though I won’t disclose the results, many agreed to go with Marko’s decision on this.” Musk explained in a press conference from the Tesla Cyberbunker. “Not only did Trump spend 43% of his workday on the golf course, but he spent another 27% in Florida, which until very recently was a colony of Spain and bordered on a body of water called the ‘Gulf of Mexico.’ .And even more alarming, when I searched for any evidence of him supporting our President, I found that nothing he said really properly glorified or uplifted the President’s image.”
But it got worse. As Musk’s investigative team dug deeper, they uncovered shocking evidence that President Trump had been aggressively pushing a radical DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) agenda. “Frankly, we were stunned,” Musk admitted. “Trump has been hiring non-native-born Americans, like, well… me, for key positions. And his cabinet and advisory circle? Way too many women—Susie Wiles, Tulsi Gabbard, Pam Bondi, Kristi Noem, Brooke Rollins, Kelly Loeffler, and, of course, Press Secretary Kayleigh McEnany. I mean, come on. Where’s the meritocracy?”
The report also revealed a suspiciously high number of African Americans in Trump’s orbit, including Scott Turner and Alice Marie Johnson, an alarming infiltration of Hispanics such as Marco Rubio and Lori Chavez-DeRemer, and even one person born to parents of immigrants from the Indian sub-continent. “This level of inclusivity is simply not what we expected,” Musk continued. “I had to double-check to make sure these appointments weren’t leftovers from the Biden administration.”
The White House scrambled to address the unprecedented situation. Press Secretary Kayleigh McEnany, in a hastily arranged briefing, stated, “The President was momentarily relieved of his duties due to a clerical error. We assure the American people that this administrative hiccup has been resolved. And to clarify, President Trump has always been a strong supporter of President Trump. Also, his diverse hiring record was not DEI-related—he just likes people who flatter him.”
Musk, realizing the magnitude of his bureaucratic faux pas, took to his platform, X (formerly known as Twitter), to rectify the situation. “Oops! Looks like I accidentally fired @realDonaldTrump. Reinstating immediately. Note to self: remind POTUS to submit his TPS reports. Also, need to investigate this Marko Elez character. And remind President Trump that diversity is only good if it’s self-made billionaires. #AdminError,” he quipped.
The incident has sparked a flurry of memes and late-night monologues, with comedians dubbing Musk the “Accidental President” and Trump the “Commander-in-Leave.” Political analysts are left pondering the implications of a tech CEO wielding such unchecked power within the federal apparatus.
As the dust settles, one thing remains clear: in the age of Musk and Trump, the line between reality and entertainment continues to blur, leaving the nation amused, bemused and constantly confused by the antics of its leaders.
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