The Gilded Calf of Fifth Avenue

He spoke in words of kindergarten grace,
“Tremendous,” “huge,” and “winning” filled the air,
The spray-tanned king with his ever-scowling face,
Topped by a wisp of engineered hair.

The Saudi princes lick their pens with glee,
The Russians raise their vodka, cold and neat,
While sovereignty drips from the carving tree—
A nation hung and bled like butchered meat.

~ Full poem…

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