Take a moment and read this. Thanks.
I’m close to full stop, come the news after sundown. But those fourth estate hounds, it being happy hour and all, are fed scrap after flap of Trump this or that, which spins my amateur poet pose on a damn D.C dime, and I’m forced to pirouette and sash shay some dilettantish political punditry.
Let me pour a bourbon.
Now if that first paragraph doesn’t clue you to the punishment inherent in thinking about politics then you be my kind of player.
Because, politics, in the main, is a bad play. A narrative offered without a theme. Because governance, the plot points of politics, is just one event after another. Grunt-work. The trash picked up. Timely public transportation. A nation’s defense staffed and paid for. Taxes collected. Disputes adjudicated, with property and civil rights protected. The free speech. That one person, one vote.
Now, I’m purposely mixing metaphors of making a…
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