Maybe I was just a passing Orb in the sky
A nightingale Angel to feed you soulful dreams
A whimsical dancer pirouetting on your hardwood floors
Yet you were a man of steel, iron, and 18 wheelers
your son was filled up by corn husks as you
watered down the cattle trailer
a backyard full of idle Chevys
collecting memories like ashes of your dad's oil spills
You were a trophy husband
with a gutted out bed of rusty rock gardens
and a wife who left you due to neglect
I couldn't find your inner crutches
or your engine-beating heart
a man of simple words
with limited vision
I paralyzed your flip phone
with NSA hackings
Your two finger touch could not reach the golden age
Now you lay immune to women in your four cornered upholstered bed
Your Trump flag blocking the sunlight
Meeting a stranger was fun
Until I found out you had a Stepford wife track of
Rush Limbaugh implanted in your brain
Your hate for America was bigger than Sara Palin's love for it
and someone blew out the window of your Ford Ranger
due to your Trumper bumper affinities
Ignorance met vengeance on Highway 63
There was no affection worth saving.
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