With apologies to Walt Whitman

January

O Country! my Country! the White House trick is done,

The GOP is right on track, the prize it sought is won,

The Don is in, beside him Flynn, the alt Right all excited,

The Russian meetings buried deep, the treason grim and daring;

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where in this land Democracy,

Is fallen, nearly dead.

November

My Country does not answer, its lips are pale and still,

Democracy feels not my arm, it has no pulse nor will,

The US founders day by day, its lifeblood nearly gone,

And on its neck the vampires feed, their treachery near done;

So tweet your tweets, proclaim your hate!

While we with mournful dread,

Observe the Land of Liberty,

Fallen cold and dead.