Threnody for Donald

There are tortured souls
who, in their dream of weakness,
only torture themselves;
but there are tortured souls
who, in their dream of strength,
torture us all.

And so, as we watch a fellow human
sinking slowly into the depths
of his own depravity,
how do we name what we see?

If we watched it on Netflix, or HBO,
we would call it entertainment;
on CNN, or in the NY Times,
we call it news.

How have we come,
with so little empathy
and so little understanding,
to accept these as equivalent,
as if our worst imaginings
(delightful as they might be
in the realm of fantasy)
were acceptable as reality,
to be witnessed without complaint,
as if this were only another form
of entertainment?