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i can’t believe it’s not better
August 2015, deep in the heart of a Rust Belt state.
A woman observes a vision, appearing in a most unexpected place.
But it wasn't Jesus or Mary, or even Elvis. It was him again.
The one in every newspaper, on every TV. Ubiquitous.
Right there, in plain sight, in a tub of butter, that face.
With mouth agape—on yet another boorish tirade.
Orange, gooey and molten, twisted in outrage.
Like a premonition of things unsaid.
A psychic prediction of the low road ahead.
The schoolyard bullying, the carnival barker theatrics.
Inflammatory actions and thin-skinned reactions.
The devious words that would rally a nation’s darkest tendencies.
And ultimately conclude with the narrowest,
most contentious of pale victories.
So go ahead. Dig in. Taste the disappointment.
All hail King Butterface. That's where your vote went.
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For pricing and availability of originals, signed limited editions,
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24” X 24”
Acrylic on Canvas
©2016 Mark Mitchell
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(Based on a True Story)
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