Being shrugged off by reality

What the imagination cannot conjure,
reality delivers with a shrug,
although you may not know you have a puncture
until you’re lying in the grave it dug.

Most sadly it appears to me that Trump,
a Trumbo travesty of tragedy, so sad,
post-mortem in a post-election slump,
now digs one for himself, by breaking bad,

thus not unlike the character that Bryan
Cranston played. Trump may perhaps come back
to life like him on whom the life of Brian
was based, come hell or heaven or a hack.

Our era seems to me to be like one
when Brian lived, its post-reality
based like it on what has not yet been done,
supersession of legality.

This kraken, happily though, wasn’t woken:
reality survives and is not broken.

Anthony Lane, reviewing “Trumbo” in  The New Yorker, 11/9/15, writes, following his review of “Spotlight”:

For a different stroll down the path of righteousness, try “Trumbo.” Jay Roach’s movie follows the tribulations — and exhausted triumphs — of Dalton Trumbo, one of the deftest of American screenwriters. Even if you don’t recognize his name, you will know his work.