I wait with bated breath for... C. Cure T. Clarence

The following crafted

approximately midway

into the administration

of forty fifth president,
whose crass, gutsy, lewd,
repulsive yawping finds
him squarely poised to
nab the nomination as
Republican front runner
come the 2024 election.

The overstuffed ego freezer

(yes him with the coiffed
windblown hair has been making,
sans daily) regular appearance

in the news oval

hate gambling arrogance

vis a vis spewing,

shouting, and scathing rabidly

foaming explosive handy

claptrap in ascendance,

asserting how incredibly

tremendous collusion between

CIA, FBI and media

(must warrants revocation,
hence heroic intervention,
and emergency das

Pence sing balance

of security fabled

clearances Aesop - Asap)

hounds engaged "brilliance"

in (community) chance

of making an very

usual fool of himself,

viz the "FAKE"

 

trumpeting dapper Don

expostulating the latest ploy,

raging against the machine

i.e. entire popular culture

will get their comeuppance

being so freely outspoken,

a disgraceful unconstitutional defiance

which oh press

sieve act of deviance

spluttered, thus an extreme

 

measure to clamp down

on all news outlets,

and immediate disappearance

all the while poor
Melania stoically, objectionably
and lamentably stands

right alongside him,
(nonetheless nonverbally
metaphorically exhibiting

vitriolic livid rage)

 

as he rancorously spouts

(ala VERY) convincing impression

of la va reenactment qua,
Krakatoa volcanic disturbance
lambasting utter disgraceful disservice

(foxy Dis Putin

commercial stations construe, conspire,

conjure egregious collusion

outlets asper dominance

a pugilistic ringside fan loathsomely

 

(re: scowling non verbally),

wherein pejorative spectators whether
(moral less minority, and/or

majority whips lashing) weather being
subsequently splashed by

LXXII spittle aged
perspiring ogre) with exuberance
(like some voodoo freelance

sing hexed indigo gurl goo goo doll,
a villainous venal mummified

 

rattle trap declaring forbiddance

from this moment forward grievance

fomented by via triple threat

to American democracy

sans, intransigence, insouciance, ignorance,
thus taking recourse upon the heads

of "stupid" journalists forcing hand

toward "losers" who spread lies,

hence president signs issuance

analogous to lance

sing (via strong trumpeting arm),

a yuge bigly boil saying believe me

(meaning him - moron in chief)

asseverating the congressional,

global, and orbital

bulwark acting with noncompliance

necessitating entire military

industrial complex arsenal
heavily reinforced (at

the expense of every social,

governmental, environmental, etc cetera

 

to manage unruly populace

with mandatory diktat decreeing obeisance
with non dodging demagoguery

huff ford ding auto-da-fé fiat ordinance

this platform to guarantee overdominance,
when November 2020 election

for forty sixth president

takes place with poignance

when courtesy hindsight
transition to Biden administration
punctuated by insurrection.

 

When I witnessed capital one rebellion

slack jaw froze mine countenance
when eyes blinded with figurative
daggers asper mistakes in original draft,
hence...this flood proof, fire resistant,
and fever reducing error free version.

Yes...yes...yes, this rhyme
resembles a recent one of mine
from a previous time,

yet appropriating wands zone writing
haint no crime -
at least not yet.

Okay bull heave me you,

at this moment

alm completely unaware

what the a muse zing
genie of poetic

inspiration will bring

possibly shelving what Calliope

holds in store for me,
meanwhile now

with impatience itching

visa vis to discover
what this Earthling,

(albeit modest) will be amazingly

graced with pizazz, meanwhile aye fling

haphazardly, indiscriminately,

and jocosely blitz
krieg feebly attempting

to contrive ingeniousness emits

poetic prestidigitation in fits

and starts, sans "FAKE" wits

as this humble

human imperceptibly orbitz

around mister Sun,

(which about bajillion years

from now suddenly quits)

shining foisting misery,

where Nyx knocks

(paddy whack give

my dog a bone...) divinely,

knowingly and spiritedly visits

 

(believe me you) this trumpeting
stupid moron loser

forever doth taint

after this moment
(no need tubby saint

lee and suppress any quaint
gut wrenching chortle)

at what ain't

no farce), nor literary feint

yours truly painfully,

 

sorrowfully, and verily avers,

he now lacks fire and fury

(as if nettled and docked by burrs)

nonetheless, which ambition

dust hanker mink thinks furs,

and foremost (Tom

morrow i.e. purrs

sues tha owl mighty,
where fame posthumously spurs

 

me amidst pantheon

of great writers

which dream dashed

into a million,

(no...no...no...not

bajillion this instance,

though good guess) pieces

abysmal silence replacing

(palimpsest like),
mine over active imagination whirs.