Poem: Ain’t Doin’ It

I know I’ve never had a choice
of where my taxes go.
You pay to play Democracy.
But this Orange Man
now wants to strip funding
for everything and buy more guns,
more bombs, more jets, more cruise missiles;
like we don’t have enough.
You want my taxes?
You can damn well show up at my door.
And I’ll sic my 14-pound dog on you.