ON May Thirteenth, when nine times cable News
Its twenty-four hour Cycle had expir’d,
The mainstream G.O.P.—in anguish lain
Confounded on a D.C. office Floor
E’er since the hideous news of May the Fourth,
When Kasich, slim hope of th’Establishment
To through Convention contested best Trump
And seize the Nomination, fin’ly ceas’d
And gave the nod to the cruel Businessman
In all but name—at last regain’d their feet,
And their debacle explanation sought,
Or if none were found, Scapegoats; for their fate,
Which bade of naught but wrath, of Super PACs
Defrauded, centrist Voters shunned, and bile
Upon them by their own Candidate pour’d,
Shon clearly. Now each shot a baleful look
At his despondent Peers, and no blame assum’d,
E’en as disaster by their lax hands transpir’d
To all sides lay. Alone each man observ’d
The dismal Situation: all around
The office red and blue was lit; yet light
Serv’d only to discover sights of woe,
Of Benefactors horrifi’d, and Polls
Of public loathing scatter’d round; how bleak
The Odds, which ‘gainst the Democrats had once,
With field of youth precocious, gov’nors strong,
And maverick hopefuls certain seem’d. Alone
Gaz’d each in horror, to inaction chill’d
By monstrous Error shar’d. Titanic grew
The chilling Quiet, by guilty Conscience birth’d
And plural Shame fast multipli’d immense;
When from that desolation huge arose
The Party Chairman, highest exponent
Of G.O.P. and Right, guide principl’d
Of all Conservatism, who tow’ring stood
In three-grand Suit of atramentous weave
As smooth and black as Night itself, but for
The Flag Pin small on his Lapel, and soon
Discern’d before him a man next himself
In stature in the Party, Commandant
Of their Majority in the Senate,
Long known in Washington, first dissident
Against Obama, Mitch McConnell nam’d.
To whom the Chairman of the G.O.P.,
Known far and wide as Priebus, with bold words
Breaking the horrid silence, thus began.
“Is this the price, this the toll, we must pay
For our obeisance to the people’s will?
If it be so, then we shall not resist.
We must obey their Mandates; for their Votes
Are what shall keep us all in Office safe
For two years more, or four, or six; our pow’r
Must be, by any means, secure assur’d,
And so the right wing Public, heedless of
Their foolishness, shall be appeas’d; thus we,
By turnout vast encourag’d, shall ensure
Our own continuance i’th’ Nation’s rule.”
So spake th’embattl’d Chairman, though in pain,
Vaunting aloud, but rack’d with deep despair,
And him thus answered soon his bold Compeer:
“Ignoble Reince, pragmatic Mastermind
Of our disjointed Enterprise, I know
That you have weighed the costs and benefits
Of this position long and hard, and I
Will side with any Course you recommend.
Yet I retain some doubts, and fear that Trump,
By his malevolent Repute, might spur
Among th’Electorate such remonstrance
As might instill invigoration fresh
Among the unexcited Clintonites:
Not just to help her win the House in White,
But in so doing drag our Aspirants
For smaller Office down with him; and if
Unlikely victory should grace our Cause,
I fear that his degen’rate impulses,
And impudent refusal to comply
With our attempts to seal his Guarantee
To strict adhere to Party policy,
Might undermine any Plan we wish install.”
To which in quick reply, though scarce assur’d
Of his own words, sure he would need the help
O’th’ merciless McConnell to ensure
Republican consensus on th’Issue,
The Chairman all impassion’d thus began.
“O Cunning, Wise, and Unforgiving Mitch,
Blocker of Garland, do not doubt the Power
Of Trump’s strange Movement, though we can’t discern
For sure its Causes, nor can trace the ways
Of his wild Voters, though they seem unwise.
King of our Senators, do not believe
Those rigid threats of Doom; we shall not Lose:
How should we? by the Don? he brings a base
Of zealots, By the Clintons? look at them,
They who have rul’d for years, yet we match,
Or nearly so, their numbers in the Polls:
To ends more perfect I aspire than Fate
Attempts to give us, for their overthrow
I think possible, though against their Plan.
Shall we renege upon a chance like this,
To stifle th’autocratic Hillary
And countermand Obama’s Will? or will
We contest, vig’rous and without regret,
This winnable Election, to our ends
Aspire, despite our star-cross’d Candidate,
Deterr’d not from achieving what might lead
To years of pow’r, control of all Government;
With victory, what spoils? with loss, what fall
But that which catalyzes great Reform,
The sort which would ensure th’elimination
Of any chance that one from Trump’s block chipp’d
Could ascertain again his Post atop
Our Party, canc’rous possibility
Which, until now uncheck’d, hath led us here?
Trump therefore cannot hurt us, have no fear:
Our fear alone of Trump would cause our loss.
Why then would we retreat? Why but because
They plan to keep us low and powerless,
The Democrats; they know that their own Choice
Is flaw’d as hell, but if they make us think
That ours is worse, they might discourage us
And easy pave their path to four more years.
So we shall lose perhaps, but many more
Causes import our need to fight this fight.”
So ceas’d the Chairman, his die now cast,
But then rose up Paul Ryan, equivalent
In stature in the low’r Camera
To Mitch i’th’ Higher, but ambivalent
To greater lengths on Trump; at this Decree
Submissive outraged, he in protest howl’d:
“Great Priebus, O exalted Chair supreme
Of Party of Abe true and Ronald wise,
Where hast your Conscience flown, to what far Land
Hath it from thy Breast departed, that ye
With acquiescent Tongue so readily
Endorse th’impostor Trump, bad Nominee
Who only through our Party’s depth of Bench,
Which render’d ‘mongst sixteen the mainstream Vote
Divided, and Trump unattack’d to seize
That slim Plurality which now he claims,
While true Conservatives must either he
Or vip’rous Clinton choose, foul lib’rals both?”
To this charge th’unmov’d Priebus thus repli’d:
“What matter how, if we be yet in charge?
With Trump at least we can yet win; the Dems,
Lukewarm for Her, shall not see us away.
A monster, Trump, and no Conservative,
You claim, and that he could our Party doom;
Yet greater doom would be another Loss,
And four years more of Mansion White depriv’d.
To seize again that House, pale Metonym
Of absolute Pow’r, is its own reward
Deserving any price. Long is the way
And hard, that Donald Trump leads us to pow’r.
But I should ill become your Chair, nor this
Reaganic movement lead, if aught propos’d
And judg’d of public moment, in the shape
Of difficulty or danger could deter
Me from endorsing our own Candidate.
Wherefore would I assume this Martyrdom,
And not refuse to lead the G.O.P.,
Refusing to accept as great a share
Of hazard as of glory, each alike
Potential in our many Candidates,
If our dominion, G.O.P. Regime
Enacted at all costs, did not inform
My ev’ry action, ev’ry countenance,
And supersede all fear of damning us
Through deed or action to calamity.
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell, than serve the Dems.”
Thus ceas’d before that silent audience
The Chairman, and prevented all reply;
And next, to ev’ry protest deaf, his phone
Betwixt two sobbing wealthy Donors found,
And Tweeted: “.@realDonaldTrump will be
Presumptive @GOP nominee,
We all need to unite and focus on
Defeating @HillaryClinton
#NeverClinton”. And all was lost.
The Desk of Dr. #Content 