Trumpocalypse is here, it's real,
unless it's merely Trump d'l'ceil,
though Brooks and Krugman may decry
a Prez who's not their kind of guy
and says the kinds of things he says,
the fact remains: He'll be the Prez.
Will Donald Trump's inauguration
spark a Kremlin celebration?
Picture all those nameless hackers
eating caviar on crackers
possibly inclined to boast
while Putin drinks a vodka toast.
and takes a little hors d'oeuvre bite
at Europe's edge — who knows? He might.
Centennials? They're not much fun —
and yet remember World War One,
when Woodrow Wilson led the way
into the European fray
though re-elected months before
because "he kept us out of war,"
a lesson we should surely heed:
Those campaign promises you read
don't tell you what the Prez will say
much past Inauguration Day.
We know, alas, our highest court
has been, let's say, one justice short
but count our blessings while they last:
This may soon seem a golden past
if Trump decides to nominate
some guys who make us pine for eight.
Are Rust Belt voters going to see
each long-abandoned factory
combusting loads of coal again
and hiring back those laid-off men?
That train has left here long ago —
on rails of Asian steel, you know.
Abroad the Brits chose Brexit, though
they're not in any rush to go,
and Sarkozy has blown his chance;
next year Le Pen may win in France.
Will Turkey's government still squeeze
the press and let more refugees
descend on Europe, as before,
in boats that may not reach the shore —
while Erdogan, as now appears,
receives a pass for 12 more years?
Back here, the Sounders won the Cup
Let's hope that they can keep it up.
Will Clint come back? Will Jordan go?
Will Nico still conduct the show?
The Huskies wound up number four —
would it be gauche to ask for more?
Next year looks good, but we can't tell
who'll stay, who'll join the NFL.
The Mariners can now look back
at 40 years, which mostly lack
success and yet — for those who care —
there's much less reason to despair:
The Cubs have made it; we can too.
It may just take a year or two
or maybe just a little more.
Chicago's fate may lie in store,
which means those M's fans still alive
can gloat in 2085.
Will council members soon OK
Chris Hansen's new arena play,
exchanging trucks and seaport funk
for high-priced seats and guys who dunk?
Tim Burgess says that he is through;
so council wannabes can queue.
Some may be flakes, some have real heft;
the line, of course, forms to Tim's left.
Though Howard Schultz will leave the helm,
we'll see more growth of Starbucks' realm:
a Roasterie in Shanghai soon
(and — who knows? — maybe on the moon).
Big Bertha's cruising; will she bore
to daylight — as we've thought before?
It's true her resurrection day
is scheduled now before next May —
though one may mention, candidly,
she's late a year, or maybe three,
and that her monument, of sorts,
is apt to be a pile of torts.
The city's bought those Pronto bikes —
a great idea that no one likes;
perhaps they'll soon get hauled away
(not many ride them, anyway;)
It seems the bikeless hordes don't thrill
to pedaling their way uphill.
With ST3 an easy winner,
wallets here will soon be thinner;
So will traffic get less tight?
Of course it won't — you knew that, right? —
but Ballard folks, it now appears,
may get light rail in 18 years.
Will legislators raise the bread
to do as state supremes have said
and amply fund state education?
Not without some more taxation?
(That's a hard one; we've heard Jay
say income tax is DOA.
The carbon tax he'd like to see
does not amuse the GOP.)
Of course, they know they're on the spot;
but if they punt, the court will ... what?
The two-L Hillary is done
but close to home, the one-L won,
which means, as we all understand,
she'll be commissioning the land
(on which we hope, some summer night,
those eastside forests won't ignite).
Alas, now "hope" seems out of style,
so let's find some excuse to smile:
Go see some blooms at Paradise,
and glaciers, too, while there's still ice.
When snow melts off, go hike a trail
to Comet Falls or Bridal Veil
and if you're up for longer trips,
try Oregon for the eclipse.
Spot white-crowned sparrows in the park
(and black-clad cyclists, after dark)
and in the Elwha dusk or dawn
big salmon swimming up to spawn.
Good luck to fishers in the woods
and flowers sprouting in the 'hoods;
as for the rest of us, well, cheers!
as we begin the next four years.
