Yours truly just a fluke of the universe
worming his way hook, line and sinker
thru the meandering time stream,
which current speeds up the older I get
rocketing toward my sixty fifth birthday
January thirteenth two thousand twenty four.

A garden variety (generic) agrarian wannabe
antiauthoritarian, bookish antiquarian bloke,
antitotalitarian, well mannered barbarian
disestablishmentarian, egalitarian, futilitarian,
grammarian, quasi hereditarian, latitudinarian,
libertarian, majoritarian, nonsectarian,
nonvegetarian, proletarian, sexagenarian,
Unitarian who receives social security
disability courtesy once paralyzing
lacerating, and debilitating anxiety.

Yours truly amazingly
chronologically, enigmatically,
gracefully, interminably weathered
despite malevolent mental maelstrom,
linkedin with extinction of **** sapiens
in tandem with many flora and fauna
populating planet Earth
courtesy Manhattan Project
when Ernest Rutherford split the atom.

Fiendish and gruesome
phantasmagoric denizens
dwell deep inside subterranean vault
perform an evil dance
haunt psychic landscape
with imaginary (yet realistic)
gargoyle visitations cast macabre trance
nocturnal unconscious invaders
cavort and gallivant
disturb quiescent sleep with
devilish and sinister prance.

Apparitions crept stealthily
into peaceful slumber receptacle
repository whence illusory
landscape of dreams
take place to rejuvenate exhausted
body, mind and spirit triage
rent asunder blissful sleep
with a startled fright
cold sweat drenched
nighttime garments and bedding
teeth chattered uncontrollably
heart pounded loudly inside chest
nightmarish phantoms wrought
an awful ghoulish sight.

Mushroom cloud anniversary
triggered frenzied gargantuan hallucination
since 6 August 1945, at 08:15
inauguration into atomic age took place
one country after another sought
to acquire demonic and destruction devices
maintain self-preservation in
surreal atomic weapons race
impossible to escape the dark threat
that looms and threatens life on Earth
one launched missile spells extermination
across entire global space.

No escape from humankind military machines
munitions march mean madness
and guaranteed demise to all life
**** Sapiens violent history of
bias, intolerance and/or prejudice
characterizes vicious warfare
and chronic species strife
unaffordable legacy for future,
(and perhaps alien) archeologists
who will sift thru civilization debris
with delicate knife.

Artifacts buried in heap of pulverized
and radioactive ash
civilization monuments
and hedonistic symbols
gone in a blinding brilliant flash
irksome flotsam and jetsam
spewed into outer space
alien nations light years distant
collect miniscule bits and pieces
offer object lesson as extinction
for beings that become excessively brash.

offers his interpretation of critical race theory

I, (an articulate, charming, domesticated,
erudite, friendly, genteel, humorous, intelligent,
kind, learned, male, albeit modest – married)
with freshly clipped formerly gnarly toenails
discounts the popularized myth
encompassing world wide
webbed historical events
despite being taught Northern Europeans
owned preeminent supreme paradigm,
whereby hegemony instituted,
enforced, and blanketed
upon conquered peoples.

Blissful innocence shattered,
when nasty brutes across Atlantic Ocean
staked claim where
Nations of descendents
at least 15,000 years ago
possibly much earlier,
migrated from Asia via Beringia
and called their home
what eventually became United States.

Violence exerted to wrest control
and subdue native populations,
whose culture clubbed,
and ofttimes obliterated
from face of the Earth.

Lower Providence
public school curriculum
circa mid ninety sixties
to late ninety seventies
omitted teaching students
(case in point - yours truly)
about contemporaneous earthlings
grappling with business of livingsocial

buzzfeeding (courtesy fancy feast)
aside from hashtagged explorers
jackknifing indigenous tribes
kickstarting exploitation against
rightful owners of the land,
which usurpers against natives
dark shadows of former banished latter
to outer limits of twilight zone.

Self anointed discoverers
applied misnomer "Indians"
to bipedal hominids,
who originally occupied Turtle Island
unbeknownst to latter
frankenstein like mailer daemons
dwelt in subterranean psychic realm
wrought havoc upon rational landscape helm
at horrific tragic strewn source of catalepsy,
which near mortal blow took place
probably occurred at
mine boyhood happy hunting grounds
demesne named Glen Elm.

Think metaphorical collision course
induced straggling survivors who cried
foul, when foreigners credo, fiat,
and indeed latitudinal
manifest destiny linkedin
with eminent domain cruel fiends decried
wrought major genocide
lamentable attempt at war whoop
impossible mission to defeat
fortifications allowed, enabled
and provided secure place to whip hide,
(albeit unfairly) to seek
then ***** out aboriginal pure tin pride.

Analogous to violent upheaval
along major fault line shift
caused major emotional tectonic plate
to rent asunder and irrevocable seismic rift
and deliver sanity into Hades gate
seismic alteration (albeit metaphoric)
sheared apart major tectonic plate
Richter scale needle
absorbed mental quake shock

registered brain wave bereft
regarding annihilated state
igneous allusions equate
gray matter to liquid rock
existential catastrophe casus belli
of such egregious fate
now finds me here
experiencing writer’s block,
where creative juices cease to create.

The fount and receptacle of inventive wit
gives vent and voice to ply me craft
as I tried to capture elusive
ideas awkwardly fit
in some metrical schema
from out my literary sword and haft
with at least one eye on prize money
maybe even win title of laureate

showing true grin and grit
epitomizing my rather
iconic style dapper and daft
trademark genre ranked
by other in league with a nitwit
prompting me to ponder another draft
one more apropos
and more comfortable misfit.

I attribute being a grown mad scientist
linkedin with tacit approval of parents
(both long gone to the smoky afterlife),
and donned wizard trumpeting magic spells
while dark and stormy night
(one week before Halloween),
which usher nostalgic memories
encapsulated within the following poem
initially drafted quite some years ago.

Both parents possessed pedigreed panache
(but especially my father – renown Chemist
B.B. Harris and to slightly lesser extent
late culinary cuisine queen Harmit Harms
Kuritsky - gal whose troth thy then still
livingsocial nonagenarian widower papa
pledged, while holding some bubbling
sinister looking flask in hand while both
donned trumpeting finessed affianced
doctored formula to marry, when both
partook of blind date.

This combustible transunion link analogous
to their representative first electric kool aid
basic laboratory litmus test date), which
took place without a hitch, and telepathically
encouraged begetting retinue of revered
sons and daughters, whose ken hopefully
burned with passion KRISPR incubated,
inculcated, and incurred genetic outlook
ideally transmitted to prolific brood
of begotten babes.

This kid felt embers crackling, popping,
and snapping with yen that burned from
within and without buns sin burner of this
cingular earthlinked son.

No matter a bit tentative to experiment
*****-nilly (wonka like) with rather
explosive materiel, I received truckloads
of ammunition (in tandem with benevolent
benediction) to foster dare devil and
derelict pyromaniac precocity.

Those initial awkward formative forays
assaying, assessing and carefully calibrating
this, that or other liquid or powdery substance
found me meticulously measuring and
weighing the substances using kitchen
midden malodorous kid gloves.

Frequent disappointment arose from
yours truly as well as momma and papa
when net result (of these early attempts
to blend powders and/or liquids) merely
fizzled and self extinguished
into near inaudible ****.

Continual daily practice (would lead way
for me to enter Carnegie – Mellon ---- Hall)
after countless travails, trials and trolls i.e.
uber vaporous wisps to lyft yawping banshee
like holograms, or equivalent of 10,000 maniacs)
eventually bore successful fruit in the form
of near perfect results.

Success in hotly contested field Pyrotechnics
requires striking resemblance
to any other vocation.

One must be able, eager, ready and willing
to maintain burning passion no matter any
unforeseen setbacks or heat from an
objectionable source.

Yes, there would be an errant conflagration
(sometimes set purposely by adjunct professor)
as object lesson to master usage of fire
extinguisher/fighter, a vital piece of equipment
and evenhandedness for getting hold
instantaneously jetting kickstarter live matches)
to contain any runaway flame.

I do sheepishly admit to (ahem) you
on occasion the outcome went awry.

Nonetheless, they prided their potential
fire branded wizard in the making with
kudos and praise with DYNAMITE.

Practice from indiscriminately creating
unpredictable concoctions, these lethally
marshaled nonchalant opportunities
provided quintessentially random results
though usually very wimpy in tandem
with totally tubular nerdy, geeky, freaky,
and dorky beastie boy.

As proof positive and proud testimony, they
proudly pointed (upward) to the kitchen ceiling.

There such handiworks practically covered
entire ceiling with variegated splotches.
These scorch marks keepsake frescoes to show
kith and kin unspecified years into smoky future.

Quite accurate to assume
father and mother coached,
goaded, and nurtured
exploratory ambitions and
tried not to stifle
(at least consciously or deliberately)
my early stage ambition
toward scientific artiste bent.

As homeschooled and to some extent self taught
chemically romanced muralist, I grew up (not
surprisingly) in Unitarian household paid
close attention also adhered to the pioneer spirit.

The near limitless boundaries of life, liberty and
pursuit of understanding
an underlying credo, which
allowed, enabled and provided near endless
experimentation even at the risk of life and limb.

Aside talking head
nearly burning down the house
amidst talking heads practically in dire straits,
an instinctive reflex found me immolating myself,
occasionally singeing the canine fur of Lady,
Schultz, or Socrates, et cetera no frightful
catastrophic outcomes occurred thru milieu
of mixing deceptively harmless looking
inert raw materials.

Trial and error (quite successful with latter)
via blithely cooking dicey elements forming
goulash hiccupping laboratory mishmash
practically eliminated any pained regret to take
daring risks (such as getting married – ha)
in later life.

Despite favorable and lovable upbringing,
my mother (ever the protector and/or proctor
of our family and an excellent chef boyardee
to boot) still managed to insinuate (gently
as possible) the necessity to be careful when
igniting flammable materials lest
some uncontrollable conflagration ensue.

She (mom) did frequently confess to feeling
ever so slightly jittery and uneasy with my
slapdash amateurish homebrewed pyrotechnics
and much preferred to steer my attention toward
safer hobby such as the edible objets d’arts i.e.,
the much more drab field per how to present
and aesthetically appealing and nutritious meal.

Fondness to prepare food and pretend to be
faux renowned cook (this confession admitted
rather baldly and obviously deduced) actually
competed for my most favorite avocation activity
and spare leisure time.

In other words, this chap did relish designing
his own recipes mainly from leftovers in tandem
with unpronounceable multisyllabic organic
compounds filled numerous sized dishes
and aged apothecary bottles respectively.

Without question though, the passion plus
less riskier factor to combine and potchka
dry and wet ingredients together did rank
as considerably safer medium that still
allowed, enabled and provided me an equal
opportunity to test reactions, than those
earlier iterated potentially explosive hazards.

Nonetheless, my cavalier crusading overactive
appetite, hunger and thirst to discover causative
outcomes (even with purportedly innocuous
looking household cleaning supplies or easily
acquired inert materiel) nearly witnessed an
apocalypse at three two four Level Road
on one particular nasty occasion.

I anticipated our domicile would become
rent asunder, and reduced into a black
and decker ashen funeral pyre, yet for
grace of some divine force no family
members nor pets succumbed
nor got asphyxiated from choking acrid air.

Even as old (dish) married
(spooning) curmudgeon,
who receives social security disability
linkedin with social anxiety)
chose the fork less traveled
aye pucker with sunken cheeks,
(especially without dentures)
and raspily suction toothless mouth
drawing reminiscent guffaws affecting
attempt impersonating plumber

(think unclogging toilet)
please support your local ******
back in the day one
long haired pencil neck geeks palled
around with another
hirsute nerd - Roger Kummerer,
(who both of us graduated Methacton
High School class of 1977),
and yours truly readily
admitting, alluding, and attesting

without shadow of doubt
representing the dumber
than rocks of said beastie boys
bandits, donning particolored pachyderm
gabardine garb getup trumpeting,
especially as Mummer
on each New Year's Day
with bare *** tuchus
excellently imitating courtesy said orifice
(as chief motormouth) sound
of combo motorboat hummer.

Ah... the joys of amazingly aging gracefully
happily recalling never being
beat into ****** pulp dully
imagining dimming sense and sensibility
before (appearing gratefully dead)
lifeless body dumped into gully
nonetheless all the while fully
maintaining conscious, and forcefully
summoning forth latent powers gleefully
choking living daylights masterfully

delivering just desserts upon Tom Viglione,
whose plaintive laments truthfully
resonate as blessed music
to ears unaccustomed hearing pitifully
sounding long overdue comeuppance
forever disbelieving wrongfully
perpetrated injustice
witnessed impossible mission
fueling an ordinarily meek lad
only in his dreams, he envisions zestfully.

Pugnacious thuggish hooligans... although
decades long since elapsed, whereby hoodlums
jockeyed to rain one after another verbal blow
threatening introverted diminutive boy
who, no surprise did eventually,
albeit (stuntedly) grow
(as an aside resembled anorexic
Santa Claus **... **... **...)
still wracked, impacted, affected...,
this punster, he haint Joe
King, but upholds valuable humor less or mo'
feebly, lamely, and quirkily aspires toward po'
whit tree linkedin with infusing,
(no matter ex post facto)
freeing mine unsung hero.

so u real???
Warning! The following choppy, batty,
*****: elegy = flaky, goofy, history: iffy,
jumpy, kooky: loopy, matty, *****, nippy,
sketchy material prone to find the reader
dazed and bewildered, yet comfortably numb.

Modern Roam Min Times – mesh
THERE IS NO RELATION WITH THE
EPIC OF GILGAMESH (abridged from
brook land) AND THIS VIGNETTE – in ma Englesh.

thank a u faux sis
this married sexagenarian
encloses his poetic opus
the smooching this celibate
(sleep as a cellar dweller) chap doth miss
shaw wish i could give hew a kiss
though ye might rip ply with a hiss
that would usher inxs of x2c Noah obliging bliss.

while perched within mine
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania aerie
this totally mishmash, succotash, n trash -
hoopfully finds ya cheery
so...hallo n greetings ma dearie
just faw bean help ming this fool

i.e. myself who haint no fairy,
boot possibly the missing humankind link
cuz o be yin - head to feet - completely as hairy
Siamese twins with names Tom n Jerry
'though ye might disbelieve moi n feel leery
n doubt every word written -

but try 2 feign b ying merry
while i pose the following philosophical query...
to make sense = deciphering billy shakes perry
now take a mooch needed break cuz,
the following gibberish might beak comb quite weary.

Is society a better world to live in with less or more?
boy! those Everclear caveman days were brutish,
nasty, short and rough. that aside, though
no Culture Club, Fancyfeast, nor Iggy Pop
the Flintstone era a bit raucous, riotous, and
yabba dabba with Doobie Brothers rubble ye us.

Def Jam, ear splitting cacophony felt like
listening to partying beastie boys on a vampire
weekend competing with Def Leopards roar
n rush shin version of hells bells, Inxs of pulp
fiction sung backwards by cold play, or a brutally
nasty, yet thankfully short version per youtube
video drowning out beach boys straight out ta

Compton winking in the hood while loud Quiet
Riot !@#$ growls shook B52 sized bats overhead,
when this grizzled papa bear disturbed (like
twittering angry birds), and forced to wake
prematurely from hibernation set his seething
animal anger to boil, and smoke to issue from
jack rabbit *** nine looking Don Quixote ears.

argh! go. whar art thou Cello Yo Yo Ma?

the gumption from this then profoundly gap toothed,
high browed, red necked ursine, viperous spouse getting
one swiftly tailored kick in the bony **** sent me flying
like a twisted sister careening forward out of summer time
sadness air back to the future. right then n tha hair, earth,
wind and fire convinced this **** sapiens he became
another Grateful Dead Foo Fighter.

upon immediate and most unwelcome exposure therapy
to the Avast arctic blast (complete with Arctic Monkey),
this Mama’s and Papa’s Boy (by George) was in no mood
to neither tangle nor play footsie with Mother Nature.

Analogous to The Idler Wheel Is Wiser than the Driver
of the ***** and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More
than Ropes Will Ever Do, I wanted to whip the hide,
when needles of miniature aeroplane shaped snow white
slippery buckshot elements of style kissed, pierced and
smashed against his face from those shoddily made flimsy
animal clothes that barely kept him warm.
Lucky for vat of midnight oil, which shrouded me
in n wispy pearl jam pelt.

Tears for Fears spilled in One Direction (like 10,000
Maniacs bursting from a Soundgarden or highly
revved Motorhead emulating a Quiet Riot).

Wah. Stop crying bellowed the Queen Scorpion
(Poison ing the Air Supply).

Without - dark shadows of a doubt slunk N’Sync
with the twilight zone along the edge of night, these
beatle browed Monkeys (strewn by denim dog gone
hooligans), who cawed like sum Cajun gumbo baboons
as proto Partridge Family for a banana split Sunday
closing out Vampire Weeknd packing a full house
at the Tokyo Hotel.

Anyway, I practically froze off mine scrawny ****.

Dang!

Ooh, how purty, a cute deer.

Out came the bow and arrow.

the feathered lancet described a Nike arc with
Nike like swoosh bulls’ eye.

Upon uttering "hey Lucy i am home", the little
beasts tore their sharp nine-inch long nails into soft raw doe.

Bathe? The (Puddle Of Mud battled crippled creek),
when a dry riverbed doubles up as a mud bed or
washbasin after the springtime flood.

How in the name of judas priest could our ancestors
enjoy feeling like a beast of burden?

who says you cannot always get what you want? Alice
coop er in chains? Beastie boy George Cinderella? Eddie
money? Freddie Mercury? Iron Maiden? Lana del rey?
Jane’s addiction? Pink Floyd? Yes! the entire Motley Crue?

I exhibit health and virility at one hundred and
64 years astride planet earth, whereby spouse,
(who remained married to yours truly for about
one century – which elapsed in blink of an eye)
long since gave up the ghost, which found me
receptive to possible mission to date women
(strong of body, mind, and spirit with frontier
spirit) young enough to be my granddaughter.  

Circa December 4th, 2123, or 1212 military time,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime
(moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)
stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime
whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)

Born twenty three years into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive
moost definitely ***** deeds done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive
re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,
**** sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.

Bajillion years after proto humans experienced woe
countless figurative early Brady bunched bro doggie
dimples encountered necessity to escape cohabitation
(marital covenant alien), yet quasi marital brouhaha
ofttimes witnessed altercation begetting re: thorough
out baby with bath water phenomena, which literal
cruel fate heavily peppered past (mine) accounting
lamely explaining Pink Floyd momentary status quo
upended accompanied courtesy lapse of reason no

definitive evidence to substantiate claim, yet I know
without shadowed doubt every friggin forebear (***
pining to savor manumission, versus cotton pickin)
back breaking stoop labor think indentured escrow
harking back to days of our lives (mainly bonobo
nasty, short and brutus creatures millenniums ago
unsung simian kindred beings suffering figurative
ruffled horse feathers nsync with bird in hand dodo
which latter species long extinct (as Dutch good eats)

now non sequitur (sea quitter) mine homeboys/girls
comprising Harris eventual clan (of craven lionized
"scapegoats" set genealogical precedent, and grew
some real winners gentiles, who commingled and
intermarried, and united proudly to kvetch as Jew)
eventually acquiring redeeming qualities conveniently
best caricatured as features exhibited by Mister MaGoo
invariably dear reader "fake" anecdote ye will poo poo
as well how storied and fabled coronavirus (COVID-19)

medical technicians reference quaint pandemic setting
figurative global stage brethren and sistern microbes
made webbed, wide world wish for said good ole days
cuz, communique done being crafted about six hours
marine hated, armies of beastie boys slain 2123 yahoo
the darndest, latest microscopic bugaboo nearly slew
entire population, hence envision terra firma with
divine providence absolute zero people as edenic
provenance (metaphorically offering tabula rasa view.

heil to the Wharton chief firebrand -
more worrisome than an ovarian cyst
every race, religion, nationality,
gender, creed, et cetera with impunity dissed
brigand able, eager, ready and willing
to punch contenders throwing his fist
against rival – one nasty and brutish soul
after reading, you get the gist
how dictator wannabe lurching
with tremendous oaf fish shill

blatantly, flagrantly, and glad-handedly
zapping usurping power, breeding dissent
soundlessly slithering,
spreading vile disinformation
onto social media platforms
targeting undecided electorates
analogous to casting dark shadows
across the edge of night
hissed tory revoked eclipsed
loosing unfettered horrors.

Das boot trump out-
(oust him to) Waterloo
Eagerly awaits you
the bully in the white house and true.

Whit that, yawl get a lucky strike
if ya keep yar show
as my Reince prescience foretells this poe
fur one quarter off hiz terminal daze starring down
(with bad medicine), thee ole scarecrow.

╰☆╮ Thankfully, I'm not a royal heir
to the power monger hoarders╰☆╮
which comb hen might handy when borders
hermetically sealed - per heil hit lore
caw zing a furor with his stark jumbo je lay bean orders.

I don't wanna don a duck dynasty outfit,
or that of a woodchucker but...holy mother f*cker
and kudos to any heckler,
who deems steam roller trump as a mean trucker.

Thus - for the umpteenth attempt to post
without any intention
to induce rabid reaction to roast
my *** (albeit scrawny just to be cheeky),
I **** rye America will burn like toast
the legacy of democracy
transparent as a ghost
if....mister money bags - to the finish line
of presidential electorate, he doth coast.

My anti Donald trump screed continues tut try
tip picture conjure pixelated stress less or more
WE MUST DO MORE THAN YODEL LOUD:
(and preach to the choir)
out....out...get...life not death, he seems to ab ****
ding **** Donald drake...out...of...here...
without...his security detail or...coat....of...
(Emperor wears no clothes) armor.

I will not condone political measures
from that mane lion kapo -
jabbering indiscretion.

Herewith follows a poem
(concatenated with above lines)
I dashed off in a huff - to douse
dat auld don trumpeting joie de vivre
fin de siecle utopia of yesteryear
puffin sewerage bilge -
strike n horror n ma eyes -
for opinion aye espouse
based on scary political fracas
and looming nightmare -

whar mo' will grouse
to obstruct trump access
to black keys to white house
that a looming presidential nightmare
doth not become real - gruff louse
he will crush sacred freedoms,
whence western civilization goes off bluff
analogous to a rabid cat terminating
the life of more'n Mickey Mouse.

DUCK AFTER DUMP - PING THE DON -
a pipe dream that will never take shape.

Air ring ma thoughts - no matter aye ham
juiced one twenty first century mwm ape
serves as genuine s cape
to fly (during pitch black hours of night)
on his witch a ma call it...
to escape temporarily the cares and concerns
of an uncertain world,
where as an outlier from madding crowd I gape

at the sheer insanity
trumpeting strumpets donning an innate
prejudice and senselessness purr
blind faith toward self avowed demigod --
seize ***** viz Caesar -

forever linkedin with maxim
Veni, Vedi, Vici - idolized statecraft motto
Trump perfects with his witch's brew he doth stir
his hair coiffed and puffed like it whir
wind blown kickstart ting mobs to stir
paying Deep Purple bodyguards
to evict ruckus-causing murmur
oh...how the masses will let this country
go to hell in handbasket -
blithely purging the Iran Nuclear Deal,
The Paris Climate Agreement

plus rack up stratospheric global debt
cause zing this one measly mortal male to fret
Boom, boom, boom gotta get get
that totalitarian rule will force every man,
woman and child to march....het
two...three...four, while the billionaire
turns a third blind eye speeds away
in his foo fighter jet
argh...heavens to Betsy Ross,
Condoleezza Rice, Nancy Reagan,

Barenaked Ladies, and Goo Goo Dolls,
how did the fickle finger of fate let
this pompous *** allergic
to law and order sowing,
loosing, and fomenting insurrection
crowdsourcing, wherever anarchy met
vacuums up majority votes
across world wide
quartered, (tattered), and webbed net
to finagle vox populi,

and groom hooligan nasty ruffian thugs
with smashed face as his smart pet
GoLong Daddy story short -
pondering my rental circumstance
will be upended if this ret
chad, evil, googly-eyed, gastronomic,
narcissistic bullish Don will set
the spark for world war three -
via gone ah re: ha...ha...ha...to all vet
tureens within the sea to shining cyber sea

American crucible melting *** -
with verbal whips,
whose invective blast sucker punching
DACA, and those
who strain to uphold economic backbone,
he does NOT STOP to undermine stoop labor,
which anonymous backs,
he bloodies via twittering whetstone
unless....Katrina and the Waves, superman
or the Sabrina can oust him yet.