As people die in Puerto Rico,
Not due to the catastrophe,
But presidential apathy,
The conscience asks with Ludovico,
“Are his wits safe?” referring to
The president of such disdain,
Also: “Is he not light of brain?”
More plainly: Is he loose a screw?
The Chief Executive, this cad,
President of the USA,
In duty’s dereliction way
Surpasses any that we’ve had.
Yet, born to wealth and coddled ease
He was far from an average fellow
Without the virtues of Othello,
His madness matched by villainies.
How sad to see a glorious state
Reduced so low, meanly debased,
High aspiration left to waste
Under the rubric “making great.”
Doleful they be, the citizens
Who fostered and enabled such
Dishonest disregard—too much
To not bear bitter recompense.
Yet Lodovico sees and hears,
And testifies to the unfitness
Regnant of which he bears men witness,
Even as we—hopes lost to fears.
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