Incantation #11 (Inaugural)

Patriarch of patriarchs,
you put me in my place,
who foolishly believed there
might be value to my life,
although it drained away as
age consumed my pretty face, 
without my yet achieving
true fulfillment as a wife. 

Make our nation great again.
Restore to us our right
to kitchen, hearth and birthing
bed, in custody of men, 
to wash in tears of color
til the streets are blinding white,
to spread our one religion
for the others all are sin. 

Defend our Constitution, 
for it guarantees our guns,
and shields us when we stand up
to debase the ones we hate.  
Impel indoctrination
for their daughters and their sons.
"American" means "just like us."
They must assimilate.

What was it your savior said
of needles and their eyes? 
Something about birth control
or queer abomination? 
They say he shamed the wealthy.
What a pack of filthy lies! 
The fortune you've acquired is
the proof of your salvation. 

Build up our economy, 
bring jobs back to our shore.
We all ought to be rich like
you, I'm sure that you'll agree. 
It doesn't make a difference
if they pay less than before.
I know, despite the evidence,
you're looking out for me. 

Patriarch of Patriarchs,
you'll put Them in their place, 
who foolishly believe that
moving forward is the way. 
Reverse us to a time when
being Them was a disgrace,
and then the straight Caucasian
male will finally have his day.