(With apologies to Yeats).

The center turns, and like a slow and feral worm does crawl
This way, and then that, as intent upon its unconsidered course
As any carrion byrd wandering upon unseasoned currents;
Mere change is loosed upon the world, and with it everything
Is promised best when most wanted promises are made
To still the restless waves which beat upon the shores
That everywhere men go they drown away in innocence
The claims to independent gain with aid of rich lucre lost;
The right lacks all conviction, while all the others do seethe
With the accumulated wait of full and firm intensity.

Revelations of the way to come do litter outwards to the press
Of those who clamor now for more, their brightest dreams
So very like a fall of man, painted fresh a Second Coming;
The Second Coming now at hand! Hardly can those words be whispered
Than a vast image on the world does fall, and lingers there
A shape, indistinct and yet foreshadowed, predicting a unipolar Party;
Where before were two there is now one alone and sole unfettered
The better to make ruin undisturbed by challenge wrought
When we had our chances in the desert and wandered aimless here
To find the Gost of our Times has given birth to naught;
‘Ware what you wish when you wish for your warnings,
We have been swallowed by the past, not given omens of the future,
And what untested beast, its hour derived again at last
Slouches towards Washington to be born in dread?