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Mar 7
for the trumpeting don
spells loss for democracy
after inauguration day
witnesses his swearing-in
nepotism will run rampant
lawlessness the name of the game
of thrones breaking apart ramparts
of inalienable rightful
freedoms rent sunder, whereby nothin
can stop formidable has-been
former forty fifth commander in chief
to wreak havoc giving boogeymen
run for his money.

I cannot vote for that coiffed ogre - tough
luck such as imprisonment
doled out to "losers" -
dragging them by scruff
of their neck
delegating his henchmen
charged analogous
to applying assault, battery and ****
ever ready and rough
each likened as assigned kapo
spewing ala blow torch dragon

puffing out following
remaining poetic lines
dashed off in a huff -
based on the scary political fracas -
that a looming presidential nightmare
doth not become reality show -
apprenticing "Three Billy Goats Gruff"
(Norwegian: De tre bukkene Bruse),
a Norwegian fairy tale collected
by Peter Christen Asbjørnsen

and Jørgen Moe
in their Norske Folkeeventyr,
first published between 1841 and 1844
requiring dye hard adherents to fluff
up their orange hair
and douse body courtesy sunlamps
or other tanning equipment
to affect getting more than enough
emitted rays of ultraviolet (UV) radiation
(courtesy booth installed

in every congressional seat)
sycophants forever believing
unhealthy glow (viz Rudolph) never enough
while spending taxpayers money
sitting on her/his respective duff
meanwhile United States in general,
and Washington District
of Columbia in particular
(the epitome western civilization)
exemplifying City on a Hill,

a phrase derived from the teaching
of salt and light in Jesus's Sermon
on the Mount incorporated
in political rhetoric
in United States politics
that of a declaration
of American exceptionalism
to refer to America acting
as a "beacon of hope" for the world,
when suddenly such grandeur
precariously perched atop figurative bluff.

Airing thoughts - no matter aye ham
juiced one twenty first century
piddling, noodling, and muddling ape
poetic license serves
as genuine esse 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 the madding crowd I gape
at forecasting sheer insanity,
where vetted trumpeting drag queens
dolled up as pansexual strumpets
while they seductively eat crumpets
soulfully bellow chilling hate
innate prejudice and senselessness purr
blind faith toward self avowed demigod –
seize ***** viz Cesar
wind blown kickstarting mobs stir
twittering paypal purchased

Monty Python's Flying Circus
pretenders smelling of musk
crowdsourcing Amazon sized
nasty and brutish bodyguards
to evict ruckus-causing murmur
oh...how the controlling fiends
will let this country
go to hell in handbasket,
and rack up stratospheric global debt
cause zing at least one
measly mortal male to fret

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,
how did fickle finger of fate let
pompous *** vacuum up majority votes
across world wide net
to finagle vox populi,

and groom hooligan nasty ruffian thugs
delivering smashed face
upon those deemed peevish pet
Long 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 -
unless....Katrina and the Waves, superman
or the Sabrina can oust him yet.
Written by
matthew scott harris  64/M/schwenksville, penna
(64/M/schwenksville, penna)   
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