Priebus Lost: Book 10

EVENTUALLY the execution could
Be stay’d no longer; th’end of Priebus’ time
In the retention of the President,
Long inevitable, drew close at hand,
By telling Hints the imminent event
Confirm’d: most notable th’Appointment made
To a position prominent within the ranks
Of Trump’s devout of the wild Financier,
Rotten-tongu’d Scaramucci, from New York
Of birth, as Trump, and similar in Airs;
This the first Portent, for without consent
From Priebus, though such installations are
The purview of the Chief of Staff, the move
Was made. In swift succession public eyes
Beheld a second Portent, for the Mooch,
Impromptu spirit as his Boss, reach’d out
To those i’th’ mainstream News though Fake, and rag’d
Against th’incriminating Leaks which long
With tales of dissonance amongst the staff
O’th’ White House had defam’d the Trump Regime:

“I’ve asked people not to leak things for
A period of time and give me a
“Honeymoon period, They won’t do it.
They’ll all be fired by me. I fired one guy
The other day. I have three to four people
I’ll fire tomorrow. I’ll get to the person
Who leaked that to you. Reince Priebus—if you
Want to leak something—he’ll be asked to resign
Very shortly.” Star-cross’d Reince might then have known
His days were number’d, but maintain’d his mind
Away from such concerns, and his work vow’d
Pursue until requested otherwise;
Some days in limbo thus he persever’d,
Until at last one midday in July
Upon the encharcated macadam
Of a Washington airfield, wet from Rains
Diluvial without apparent cease,
Unknowing Reince prepar’d to disembark
From Air Force One, return’d anew from far
And rich domains, when he by shoulder touch’d
Was made to stop. The POTUS now drew nigh,
Not in his shape Celestial—as conceiv’d
By his devoutest Advocates, who long
Had seen the man their Savior, by his hand
Destroy the lib’ral Order too long left
Uncheck’d, by his unquestion’d potency
Infix despair in his foul Enemies
And leave them Triggered, and all resistance lose,
All courage; thus their ghastly scheming end:
They oft composited great images
Of their anointed Hero, which portray’d
O’er Libs and Globalists rolling the Don
In mighty Chariots or Tanks of War
By Eagles and the Stars and Stripes bedeck’d,
His Enemies though mighty fast prostrate,
Wishing Obama somehow could have stopp’d
This ire, but now too late: and as a Herd
Of losing Candidates on th’Apprentice
Drives them away from his domain, pursu’d
With terrors and with furies from the Swamp
They had created, though displeas’d to leave
Those lucrative Careers, sure that far worse
Would curse their permanence there—but as Man
Clad to meet Man; over his flaccid Arms
A loosely-fitted Suit in navy flow’d
Mismatch’d to his own Trousers custom-sewn
By Roman Hand, for Kings and Rulers long
To special order made, his black as night;
His glossy Belt unbuckl’d show’d his gut
In Excess, his Youth ended; by his side
As in a glistering Zodiac hung the Phone,
Twitter’s dire dread, the presidential Spear.
Priebus bow’d low, he Kingly from his State
Inclin’d not, but his coming thus declar’d.
“Reince, look. You’re a good man. You’ve done some good
Things. Terrific things. I’ve had a really
Successful few months, just unbelievable,
You were there, you saw it, an amazing
Few months. I’ve done more than Obama
Did, everyone says it, except for the
Fake news. They’ll never admit that I’m doing
A better job than him, than he did. They
Never will. I’ve been doing fantastically,
Just fantastically, but they won’t see it. It’s
So unfair. Especially CNN.
They should call themselves FNN. Fake News
Network. They’re just trying to tear me down,
You know, with all these fake reports, all these
Leaks that are coming out about ‘oh, I
Can’t keep track of the White House, nobody’s
Loyal.’ Look at everyone here. You don’t
Think they’re loyal? They are. Great people,
People I can trust. And I could trust you, Reince.
You’ve been terrific. But I keep seeing
These leaks coming out, I don’t know from whom,
But it’s too many. And Anthony says
That’s your fault.” To which Priebus, still employ’d
At least for now, but knowing he must fast
Regain the trust of his Superior,
Lest his tenure achieve its final stroke
Mere moments hence, adjusted once his tie
And this defense proclaim’d: “Resplendent Trump,
Our brilliant Sire, whose glist’ring Arts shall lead
Belov’d America to greatness new,
And have already, thy fantastic Will
E’en now restoring optimistic mood
To all its Citizens, and dreams long thought
Chimerical to possible restor’d,
Do not take Scaramucci’s charge for more
Than simian display; he seeks your ear
At my expense, such crudity deploys
Though false as his M.O., to throw the blame
For all these leaks at me, though he allows
Them too: no isolate concern—” Right here
His monologue arrested, for his Boss
This interruption issued, and made stark
His stance: “Look, Reince, you can talk all you want.
But those leaks aren’t stopping, it’s ridiculous.
It’s so disgusting. And you’re my Chief of
Staff, so the buck stops with you.
You’ve had six months to stop them, and you’ve done
Nothing. You’re a good guy, Reince, terrific,
But I can’t have that. So, Reince, you’re fired.”
He added not, for Priebus at the news
Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood,
That all his senses bound, though only for
The briefest moment, and with haste resum’d
His smooth professional calm, and repli’d
With measur’d words to the dismaying news:
“Mr. President, gently hast thou told
Thy message, which might else in telling wound,
And in performing ruin me, but instead
A host of open doors thy careful words
Have kept ajar, great opportunities
Away from public work may’st I pursue
By your defamation withheld, though these
Inhospitable appear and desolate
Apart from you; and if by petition
Incessant I could hope to change the Will
Of you who rules us all, I would not cease
To weary you with my assiduous cries:
But prayer against your absolute Decree
No more avails than breath against the wind,
Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth:
Therefore to your great bidding I submit.”
The President did not reply, but bade
Reince walk into the sodden morn alone,
Where in a waiting Limousine he stepp’d,
And from the company o’th’ President
For the last time departed—or at least
It would have been, had they not ask’d for him
To stay another month, to best instruct
His heir as Chief of Staff, four-starr’d Kelly,
Whose military breeding hop’d would bring
Th’unruly White House back to peace. That month
Reince spent observing how went the regime
Without his touch, and greater disarray
Than e’er before beheld, outrageous though
That might have seem’d: within mere hours a blow
Of devastating force was dealt the Right
As the renew’d attempt to overthrow
Obamacare, despite no substitute
Apparent still a surefire victory
(Or so it seem’d), by one reneging Vote
Was stopp’d, rebellious McCain its source;
By his betrayal the designs long-held
O’th’ reestablishment of Party mores
Upon the land again delay’d. And soon
Thereafter, a far greater crisis looms:
In sleepy Charlottesville a band of men
Gathers, of dark imaginings possess’d,
Thoughtless fellation of Hitler their main
And organizing ideology;
With store-bought flames encircles demonstrants
Of cont’ry disposition, and by force
Seeks their destruction, and for one succeeds.
At this death fresh rebuke arrives against
Th’Administration, whose perceiv’d embrace
O’th’ Hitler-humpers bears the blame for their
Ascension, though derided far and wide;
A fast rebuke desir’d the Party brass,
And so sent Trump to demonize the thugs
Responsible, and distance them from straight
And good conservatives, e’en though their votes
Had to Trump’s victory been critical;
So no surprise it was when by his words
Uncoach’d and ill-consider’d he made known
The unacknowledg’d truth of their allegiance:
“Look, not all of those people were neo-
Nazis, believe me. Or white supremacists.
Those people—they were there to protest the
Taking down of a statue. Nothing more.
A statue of Robert E. Lee. So what’s
Next? I wonder, is it George Washington
Next week. You know, you really do have to
Ask yourself, where does it stop? So those people,
They were just mad about the statue. What
About the alt-left that came charging at
Them, what you call the alt-right? They’d better
Be feeling guilty, believe me. You look
At, you look at both sides. I think there’s blame
On both sides. The statue people, they didn’t
put themselves down as neo-Nazis, so
They definitely weren’t. There were some
Very fine people on both sides. So no, I’m
Not going to ‘condemn’ these neo-Nazis
Like the fake news wants me to.” At this
Embarrassment, and too the coup de grace,
A pardon giv’n by Trump to Sheriff Joe,
The pow’r of verse to illumine, Reince saw
The future of th’Administration laid
In bold and dismal script without his help,
But no recourse perceiv’d, and so resolv’d
At last to bear no blame for all that was
To come upon the White House. Thus he stay’d
His ling’ring quavers, and to th’ Eastern Gate
Hasten’d direct, and out the door as fast
To the civilian Streets, now one of them.
He looking back, all th’ Eastern side beheld
Of the White House, so late his happy seat,
Fuck’d over by the aimless Trump, the Gate
With somber Faces throng’d and morals betray’d:
Some natural tears he dropp’d, but wip’d them soon;
The Private Sector was all before him,
And free of Trump, payment his only guide:
He on his phone already with contacts old
Towards K Street took his solitary way.
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