Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the Democrats Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Kenya Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert A shape of an donkey and the head of a man, A gaze blank and smerky as a QVC host, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant lefty congressmen. The darkness drops again; but now I know That forty years of welfare, political correctness, and counterculture were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Washington to be born?
LOL!