When I was just a little boy -
About a hundred years ago -
They taught us that the presidents
Were men of vision and of eminence
And that was arguably so.
 
Washington and Jefferson,
Lincoln and FDR,
Truman, and later JFK -
A pantheon of stars.
 
Some were saints, some were fools.
Some rose while others fell.
But most were men who, when they erred,
Knew their minds and were undeterred,
And so the nation fared...fairly well.
 
They knew a truth we may recall:
That when your back's against the wall
It's often better to do the wrong thing
Than to do nothing at all.
 
But "nothing at all" is the norm
For the winner of this electoral storm
Who set his sights unswervingly
To take as prize undeservedly,
A task that most unreservedly
Is not in him to perform.
 
But these are the days of the winter men,
Risen to rule once again.
To use their power and cunning and fraud
To make us love their terrible god,
And live their terrible plans.
 
The empty men our indulgences bring,
And this latest leader is now their king...
 
...But without Washington's fortitude
Or Jefferson's renaissance tastes.
Or FDR's patrician latitude
Or Lincoln's gangling grace.
 
Without Truman's haberdasher's eye,
(Find the man to fit the hat)
Or Nixon's stunning, cunning guile-
No, not even that.
 
Comparing the one or two things he are
To the many things he aren't
He seems so insubstantial,
So practically transparent.
 
And as you count his transparencies,
There in the deepening pall,
You find yourself suddenly seized
By the unfairness of it all.
 
"Is this some Satanic joke?" you cry
"Some hideous demon's jest?"
(The Raven in the doorway
Chuckles and answers "Yes."
Chortles and, simply: "Yes.")
 
Yet this is not a curse from hell
But a sign that we've been blessed
By a beneficent and graceful divinity
Who's set us a splendid test:
 
You see, my dears,
For two hundred years,
Whether led by knaves or kings
For good or ill
The nation's will
Has been borne on eagles' wings
 
And now, at last, the riddle
That tests the finer stuff
Of Nation-State to smallest islet:
Are we finally good enough...
 
To fly on auto-pilot?