An American Dream

A hurricane is headed for the capital,
it’s reminiscent of Flight 77 in slow
motion, taking several days to get there. On
the other hand, arriving with a 200 mile
an hour wind, the buildings are exploding and
collapsing, with the White House in its path.
A horizontal buzz-saw turning like the wheel of justice
and a pathologic occupant is looking
out the window as the Air Force jets are taking
to the air. They shoot into the hurricane,
but they’re no more effective than they were on 9/11.
The wind increasing and the trees are taking
to the air, it blows an interloper out of
the White House. He is flying through protected air-space
like a pilot in a phony flight suit, he’s an
Air Force plot. It is a short flight, he was never
in control, he slams into the statue of Lincoln,
an unholy Pieta is re-enacted.

The unelected henchmen of the junta in their
bulletproof limousines are thrown into a pile-up.
When they stumble out they’re blown into the air,
complicity is a double-edge sword, and one by one
they slam into the Washington Monument. The sides
of it are washed off by torrential rains and that’s no lie.