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Oct 2020 · 50
a stallion from the south
Martynas Oct 2020
once upon a time a southern stallion appeared in LA
he had a dixie cross
marked right on his *** ⌧
with the mane sticking out of the holes of his MAGA hat
you’d consider him a stoolpigeon if you didn’t know him
he walks 3rd street promenade of Santa Monica
feels uplifted
looks healthy and happy
just like Napoleon’s horse when he marched in Cairo.
Our stallion enjoys the neatest boulevard of the city
and no one stares at him –
here every man can express his extravagance in his own ways
all of them have their own unique story of abnormality
but our stallion
we should not forget
is from the classy Virginian family
pureblood I must say
his father was the elder of the stables of the White House
a light-hide-hunter stallion
white like a snowball
many times people talked of his ***** and how’d they want it
but he’s so peerless and must remain undivided
he cannot be simply cloned just for political loyalty
neither for a piece of preference shares
his father was first horse
with his rococo whinny
aesthetic leaps
always as fast as a meteor
and who among the elite
didn’t dream of mounting him?
even Obama rode
and he rode him to death
he fell like a star
on a green grass of Capitol
junior saw it with his own eyes -
that democrat ******, in his words,
all fraught with hatred to his own country
and it’s traditions
rode him old Virginia white to death
forcing him to skip over a barrier
and racing him like some born-to-amuse-bumpkin
they then brought another horse after his death
swarthy and stinky half-breed
suitable, to be frank,
only for ploughing the ground
and now his deeply offended son
comes from the deep south to LA
to take his revenge on the lefties
now that his father’s gone
he walks with a mountain of dynamite in his head
with the burning cross in his eyes
with the pain and anger in his heart
with the bleeding granite of Capitol in his ear
you couldn’t get very close to that kind of horse
you cannot tame that kind of horse
you’ll be hunted by that kind of horse
until that very moment
when you’ll lose
this tiresome and idiotic war
of the offended people.

— The End —