Cast-Rated

Death by a million cuts,
his agenda faltered and fell, headless,
dickless,
at the bladed ballot box
and its executioner’s block.
Headsmen, one and all,
neutering with a
scratch of the pen,
the pull of the lever,
undercutting his
tyrant’s optimism
and
approval rating.
And here he was,
only yesterday,
swollen with
self-satisfaction,
engorged with his glandular
ego,
and yet
the rubber ring is set
as we band together,
his testiness blackening
while his testes constrict
in a tightening noose.
Gelded by the
“losers”
he disdains so much,
there is no more pleasure for him—
only impotence and loss.