BALLROOM (revised version)

BALLROOM

we Brits (was once Brit)
two centuries ago
torched
your White House

but now
the special relationship
all is forgiven
all is
forgotten

and now, anyway, you
hard at work
knocking it down
(Donald confesses to
loving that sound)

but soon
to be revised, restored,
resurrected
into a glorious ballroom,
divinely beautiful
fit not
   just for a King
but for a god

place
for the elite
to meet
meat of the elite

one thing
   about the true elite
will swear
to the media, to all
who might listen.
they are,
so bog
ordinary
      which terrible taste
kind of confirms
that they are
and here
     beneath this gloss
something exquisitely shabby

yet be
that as it may
everyone
will
    fall over themselves
to be
first
to proclaim it a people’s palace,

open
to all
   and sundry just
so long
   as they be corporate, so
long as they bank billions

fantastic fever dream structure
that simply
      pulls out all the stops

promises to give you
space to
    express yourself to
trip the light
fantastic
     waltz, tango, whiskey, Charlie,
delta

Lightnings, Eagles, Tomcats,
Apaches

whatever your wings
enough floor here to park on

rivalling
    the USS Enterprise for
deck
   to take off and land

returning from bombing runs
on incalcitrant blue cities
the governance
        of America
not
   leaving to chance

that no one
     will
dance
out of step
           play
different tune,

mess
   with the waltz

rewrite
    the text of this sacred script

that gave
     us the blueprint for
this insatiable dream

and in the realization
of which

because money isn’t real
you need so much of it