If it happens to happen
that clouds crush the earth
like a hammer to ice,
skies become oceans,
rain turns to rice—
if the world grows cold
like a frozen sunflower,
cats turn in their claws,
dogs give up their bite—
if the circus leaves town
to follow the fleas,
if slow-witted children
become the police—
if rhetoric becomes
what used to be roses
and poems become proof
of impending psychosis—
if a manchild decides
he's fit to be king
though clearly he isn't,
and green bits of paper
become measures of wisdom—
if all these things
happen to happen,
I'll never say,
I told you so,
I won't look at you
in wonder or puzzlement.
I'll be watching the sky
where the dark birds are circling,
and I'll tell you,
next time,
don't vote for Republicans.