2021 Year in Review
Phew! What a year! Give a shout, shed a tear. Seemed like decades, but now it is done.
And so many battles—some lost, many that’ll be ties, precious few of them won.
So as we conceive the old annum to leave and before it gets locked in the can
Let’s spare a brainwave for what ‘21 gave (mostly took) as it ran out its span.
The new year, truth told, waren’t a single week old when terror took hold in DC,
When a great unwashed mix, some horned, some with sticks, stormed where just lawmakers should be.
They kicked over bike racks, pulled mace from their backpacks, fought cops, swarmed through the Capital halls,
Punched holes in the glass, made the reps run en masse, and then smeared smelly crap on the walls.
And as Rome burned and senators yearned for protection from those without shame
Trump watched and smiled at the customs defiled, at the flags with his face and his name
Were paraded through in an attempted coup to keep their king-idol in place
While Rule of Law wept and young soldiers kept the peace on the grounds just in case
Though none were euphoric, now twice (that’s historic!) an impeachment to right what was wrong;
But witnessed balked, were encouraged to walk — the proceedings didn’t take very long.
In spite of the peril those facing the barrel decided that Trump was all right;
In private they thought he red-handed was caught, but being primaried gave them a fright.
Though the MAGAs were loathe to watch Joe take the oath, he was sworn in as prez forty six,
But Donald stayed home, with spray tan and a comb, thinking how he could get out of this fix.
The transfer of power took place at the hour that our Constitution required,
As they played “Hail the Chief” we all breathed with relief — after four crazy years, we’re dead tired.
Now what were they smokin’? Non-fungible tokens appeared on the scene to amuse us.
Some lousy art sold for six-nine million cold. The details serve just to confuse us.
Our hopes were all riding’ on stimmie from Biden — 2 trillion dispersed among friends,
And a pause on loan int’rest that threatened to hinder us freeing our craving to spend.
A bad cop convicted, for he was depicted a-kneel on a black man in cuffs;
Three films: what it took to imprison this schnook. you’d think one was more than enough.
And speaking of shady, some old guy named Brady was caught with a gaudy, gold ring;
Without Bill B’s horcrux—he traded Tom to the Bucs— will he now find his rump in a sling?
Now don’t hold your applause —we landed on Mars, and flew in the thin Martian air;
With great ingenuity, for all perpetuity, perseverance will win out, I swear.
Though stupidity vexes (witness winter in Texas) where coop’rative action’s no boon,
If you’re lucky and rich and your soul’s in the ditch you can just take a Cruz to Cancun.
In Spring it all seemed if we all got vaccined, our COVID would finally get better;
But new strains erupted, routines still disrupted, each one with its own special letter;
Delta and Omicron both got their freak on — the death curve went higher and higher,
While Fauci debated and the shoppers awaited all clear: is life normal or dire?
Above, in the skies, frequent flyers arise when informed they must mask up, you hear?
In patriot fury, they respond with a flurry of curses in a steward’s right ear.
Yet most are quite placid, tongues spewing less acid, less likely to protest lost freedom;
The public’s own good — is it now understood? — the loudmouths: I tell you, who need ‘em?
Yay! Britney was freed from her sorry Dad’s greed — those conservancy strictures are hell!
But whether this sparrow will heal now or harrow our gossip mags — more time will tell.
A freighter got stuck in Suez sandy muck — the backup felt worldwide somehow;
The shelves were half-barren, every shopper a Karen crying “Get me your manager now!”
The Squid Game was hot — poor folks in a spot — at the end just one player alive;
Was it a deep allegory of capital’s sorry effect — or just ad makers’ jive?
The Georgia elections — ah, Repub intervention — are getting a tilt to the right;
The great All-Star game, to the clubs’ lasting fame, from Atlanta to Coors Field took flight.
On the matter of race, he who came second place had his statue removed, and his horse’s;
It’s the tiniest sign of the stiff’ning of spine — that rivers can bend from their courses
Tho with gesturing manic, the CRT panic, set lily white hearts all a flutter;
It’s not taught in schools, yet the loudest voice rules; the Democrat losers still mutter.
Manchin and Sinema, cold-hearted criminal actors sucked up all the air
By withholding their votes, those lousy turncoats — Joe’s program in sad disrepair.
They claimed that the Debt was what worried them yet something closer to home was well heeded:
They daren’t not sass the elite monied class from where campaign grifting proceeded.
In truth it was callous to launch in a phallus-shaped rocket, Jeff Bezos, Your Grace,
But all is forgiven, we reluctantly give in — it’s cool to see Shatner in space.
Just twenty years on (this war’s really a yawn) we left Kabul worse than we found it
In ways that were stealthy, the war made some wealthy. Pretend to be piqued and astounded.
Facebook, it seems, has encoded your dreams and has fed them back into your brain;
The algos it writes tend to ramp up your frights — fact checkers protested in vain.
But don’t think that Zuck will give one measly f***, he’s too tied to his power and fame;
“Just throw us some bones!” scream the masses he owns — “OK, I will alter its name.”
Don’t forget climate change that will soon rearrange your ski trips to the South Pole or North,
And melting ice shelves that in spite of themselves will flood coastal towns and so forth.
Tornados in winter, heat waves turn to cinders your great Rocky mountain chalet
For each year we linger (I point a forefinger) we’ll have one more piper to pay.
There’s more that befell us, but it’s overzealous to cram any more in this box;
From media bias to the sins of the pious to gun hoarding in the boondocks.
Will ‘22 mark an improvement? Are barkin’ we up the wrong tree yet again?
Will our liberty totter, we become a backwater, lose rights to the name Citizen?
Our destiny less in our hands. I’m confession’ I hope that it won’t come to that!
We’re such a great people, no despotic creep’ll have sway — we will go to the mat.
So here’s to our future — no con-man or moocher will keep us from making dreams real
If only we stand heart in heart, hand in hand. To each other and heaven appeal.