Chaos Theory Explained
Confession, I can’t explain it.
They’re hitting us with a water
hose of shit. And no raincoat
(no matter how expensive)
is going to keep us dry.
I already said they, a word
I try not to use. You may
wonder who I mean by they.
Let me be clear, I mean
Republicans, Christian nationalists,
the maga authoritarian complex,
your neighbor with the Trump sign
3 houses down sinking the property
values of the whole damn block.
The holy books attempt to counsel us
when bad things happen to good people
but how to explain when good things
happen to absolutely bad people?
In America we learn to blame the loser
even when the only wrong done
was to be born without a penis.
State of the union: The clown
is naked again.
Who’s going to tell?
Elon Musk, perhaps a modern
day Rasputin. History tells
us how that will end.
Tesla cybertruck parked
behind abandoned Sears.
Swasticar graffitti painted red.
This poem might be better
had it daffodils or praise a
jazz great from another time,
or language massaged out
of meaning. Subtlety, a risk
we can no longer afford to take.
The shit we’ll have to clean up
will be epic. Ask Jesus or his daddy,
God.
John Roberts tragedy,
a modern-day Pontius Pilate.
Out damned spot.
Our commonality, a house of cards
built on a foundation of treasured norms
and a crinkly paper constitution.
You wanted cheap eggs
but got measles
and stock market crash instead.
Confederacy of dunces.
The cabinet meets,
a fart in the wind.
The unholiest of trinities
Greed, Cruelty, Stupidity.
The senator must
love his job. How else explain
his grotesque contortions?
Donald Trump is proof
that God does not exist.
You can’t explain it any other way.
The sky is falling.
The sky is falling. A tree
falls in the woods.
The man next to me
thinks I’m texting friends.
I’m sending out an SOS.
The Trump voter laments
she was misled. Have pity
on her wretched soul.
Hold on. The shit they do
to drive us insane is meant
to drive us insane. Hold on.
Picture definition of douchebag
in Webster’s dictionary:
Trump’s smirking face.
Elon’s chainsaw makes me
want to tell you a dick joke.
Perhaps the border walls
are not to keep others out,
but us locked in.
Last night’s dream:
hiding under the kitchen sink
as Star Wars stormtroopers
sweep through the house
to deliver me to the emperor.
The rest of the world seems
to enjoy this, our suffering
we inflict on each other.
They used to deny it
when we called them fascist
now they say Thank You.
I’m not a Christian but it seems
the anti-Christ walks among us
with his long red tie and orange skin.
Truth to power is nice
Power to power better,
then they might listen.
If you wonder what you would
have done in 1938, ask yourself
what did you do today?
Danny Shot’s WORKS was published in 2018 and his new collection of poetry The Jersey Slide will make its debut in the fall of 2025 also from CavanKerry Press. His prose, collected in Night Bird Flying was published in February 2025 by Roadside Press. Danny is the Poet in Residence of the Hoboken Historical Museum. He was longtime publisher and editor of Long Shot arts and literary magazine, which he founded along with Eliot Katz in 1982 in New Brunswick, NJ. Danny is a proud New Generation Beat Poet Laureate (2024 – Lifetime).
