The Gordian Not

Can Wall Street billionaires deliver on
Trump’s blue-collar promise? Can Kublai Kahn
wear blue jeans? Can peasants dine on ortolan?
Can you fucking kids get off my lawn?
Are those your rosy fingers, or is dawn
lifting my skirt? What new phenomenon
will psalm itself a novel antiphon
where freedom follows from panopticon
and the princess, plucked and cooked, remains a swan?
When Alexander died in Babylon
Companions wept but swiftly set upon
each other, encircling sea to Parthenon
they rent an empire from its noumenon.
Can the wolf befriend a just-foaled fawn?