The Great Communicator

His "morning in America" campaign,
Waged with a carny barker's flimflam skill,
Would pee the glass half full, call it champagne,
And toast our shining city on a hill.
The evil empire lay on its deathbed;
He blustered at the patient as it died,
Then claimed the kill. Star Wars had worked, he said—
A boast much trusted, little verified.
At home he nursemaided the Christian Right,
Al Qaeda and the Taliban abroad,
Evangelized for simple black-and-white
Beliefs that made a gun nut out of God.
He marketed a New Deal-bashing meanness
With cheap bromides and folksy silver screenness.

© Chris O'Carroll