Tanked

thank the living dead

for reminding us repeatedly

why marshal parades

never have an end

early in the afternoon

reluctant soldiers marched

good men rehearsed

again and again

fell in line in formation

under oath

following tracks scored

by camouflaged tanks  

on the asphalt of civilian streets

after the parade

dusk collapsed

over the republic

and the constitution

curfew followed protest

riot followed sadism

bloody suppression

followed orders

a repentant god

having second thoughts

about the faux coronation

attempted to wash

the disgrace away

called forth heaven's

gray clouds to storm

but it was already too late

pretenders to the throne

were busy trolling

the worldwide web foaming

like rabid dogs searching

for buried bones

long after midnight

the hard rain splashed

on the damaged pavement

just before sweepers arrived

with instructions to scrub

city workers on overtime

and wearing masks

decamped with mandates

to make quick repairs

of the avenues named

for heroes and states

erase the tracks

cause the little shallow pools

cut in honor of fools

and puddling up with muck

silently to disappear

plastic straws popped balloons

floated atop the oily water

washed through storm drains

into the river then out to sea

soon enough resurfacing

as waves of discarded party favors

on the salt white sands

of mercurial beaches

by next morning

a cabal of enablers

had begun furtively mapping

the route for the next

military march and confrontation

a spokeswoman

for the administration

announced with some glee

at a muted press conference

that the new budget would include

a very big appropriation

for the construction of

a new road to perdition