Summit Times Ja Just Gotta Walk Away...

Excusing yourself as if...
going to the bidet,

an immense water closet

(perhaps the size of
Mar A Lago type getup),

sans human waste
(after flushing hearing
heavenly suctioned whoosh)
empties into prez Donald's bay,

where one bum wrapped aforementioned
toilet finely (and finally) enthrones

derriere exquisitely, and, delicately
intricately, chiseled wrought with cloisonné

ah...enjoying simple pleasure a$$ I say
sipping one after another Red Bull, whence

with one final trumpet of the rump -

(as acknowledgment to angry 1%),
though quite reluctantly did pay -
hitting the custom built in combination
handsome replica Taj Mahal fountainhead golf
course made from clay

baked Adobe bathroom links
(whew...long Atlas) shrugging off
responsibilities, escorted
by migrant compadre

Russian Putin lookalike uncannily

also resembles plucked Kernel Sanders
advocating consuming buttered Thomas
English muffins with oreos can delay,

tending to government, who successfully
playfully, melodiously preaches, sermonizes

and absolute zero values benefits burning
off calories, where couples sashay,

asper square and/or contra dancing,
where the caller hollers hip hip hooray
barely audible above

noisy fracas and fray
of crowded house,
avast throng of village people stomp

louder than a quiet
riot global military foray

anathema to dogma,
karma, persona... of
Jacques Cousteau, or green like
minded millennials and/or gray
bearded whelk homed by elasmobranchii.