A gorilla stands on the railroad tracks

Molding plastic to fit between the cracks.

The lion joins him as a faithful lookout,

Eyes rove above his growling snout.

The gorilla and the lion do not speak

Out loud. There is no need to make

A sound. The moon is a matchbook

At nightfall - it waits to be struck...

The beasts wear the stealth of night,

Awesome beasts that move on ballerina feet,

Exploding into the shadows they disappear

To hide and witness the locomotive engineer

Rendered helpless, unable to steer

The ten tons of iron at his command. Every gear

Has lost control, a fable come alive:

Restless beasts in the jungle have

Stolen forth to slake a powerful thirst,

Long left unsatisfied. America first

Heard of these beats, but doubted they could exist,

Or be taken seriously, or that they would persist

In fighting the civilized order

To establish freedoms and a secure border...

Until railways started to explode across the nation

And derail every engine of civilization.

Finger-wagging gloaters dive

Under desks in the corridors of power. Have

They heard the explosions and sounded the fathom, Writhing there in a helpless spasm,

As gorilla and lions lay waste to their thirst

Outside, in the New World of America First?