Clanking keyboards with his butt
Tweeting fiendish bile on his foes
Not a tweet of love, none of joy
Relishing misery rained on souls
Till the farts come home to roost
Sparing none in his path, with creatures on the run
Seen as threats to his might, orange is his skull
Makes them feel his wrath, with dread and horror
Clear as day turns to night, nights petrified by the coming day
Happy to ride the warpath, to keep rivals in check
Covfefe’s the way, out of my way
My way or the highway
My felons can vote, yours no way
My cronies can kill, yours only bray
As you watch me unleash the fray
Nothing like my loins, executive they be
Just ask the ladies, they’ll tell with glee
Buddies too, love them soft ‘n young
Oiling their wares, thrilled by orgies
Join the club, ye millionaires ‘n royalty
No shitholes up here, continental size down there
Send them home, to their gutters, trash ‘n bushes
Apes, Ronald once said, Rat-filled Donald now says
Citizens unequal, arm them all, death’s the norm
Christ’s my savior, how ‘bout you?
Mad fingers on the nuke switch, craving more, ditch peace
Dance to my tune, or starve ‘em with dollar droughts
Screaming children our media will mute, dying sick, our press doth hide
Folks at home fixed in their couches, like couch potatoes, numb
To the misery rained on the faceless, nameless, voiceless, hopeless
Howling justice, democracy, universal rights
Ignorant of the woes of those without might
Power charms money, as eggs do snakes
Give me war, death merchants to enrich
Peace’s worthless, yearned by chickens
Love’s for the idle
Hate’s the key
Send them home
Leave us free
To tweet ‘em dead.
© Alwi Shatry, All Rights Reserved.
August 6, 2019.
-
Author:
Seek (
Offline) - Published: August 5th, 2019 23:22
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: poetboy123
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Comments3
Years of USA politics home and overseas condensed into poetic irony and blossoming in contemporary Mr cartoon Donald.
What fruits shall we harvest?
Years of USA politics home and overseas condensed into poetic irony and blossoming in contemporary Mr cartoon Donald.
What fruits shall we harvest?
2020 may be the year we will know what fruits we will harvest.
Amazingly, somehow you've managed to capture the ramblings of raving old fool perfectly! Brilliant piece, I loved every second of it.
And that coming from you means a lot to me. Thanks for taking time to read and comment.
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