Just humble stardust w/ a bartab like You All,
yet had mon tete been geniustwatted in the bathtub
by Cosmic Commonsense like a Hollywood dodgem?
The Light's point of view
had starpower of a simple truth,
exhorting all us Occidental folk
who aren't amenwhining wideloads drugged by driving
to revolt & deracinate the armageddaceous vegetable,
Dubya Shrub, that like some ghastly barnaclegoose
propagates slimy hawks, tho' one cannot wot
if they be eagle or cobra from cockatrice collarbone up.
& when talons blossom, a mob of Western civil heroes
should impound such deciduous warbird anti-Kezzes
w/ concrete jesses.
Likewise, the Light doth
entreat the Sheikh in the street & the haytistes of Nice
(whose Frarabic mutterings are half-Qurannish,
half-MC Solaar), & all the hajjis playing
Mohammedean Pom Pom Home - pilgrims hillsboroughing
about the Kaaba - every Muslim
w/ slipped discs of salah, from Kuwait to Qatar, Bahrain
to Bradford: permit the photoflood of Doubt to flash out
faith's fog, for it makes as much sense as Shrubya Dub!
Let the Sunna do a runner w/ the hasbeen Hadith
like the dish & the spoon ( an equally respectable belief),
& submit to a secular baraka
kindspirited as we Christkickers amongst the Kaffir.

All who accept the Prophet is Morhominid
must oust the imam of indiscrimincineration
from his weasel webs at Tora Bora.
O doeeyed softspoken pyropriest, Salafist icon
of elevensmiths, whose slaughterous forge
would only fuel 70fold
the obsidian aizles of Jaheem!
But Osamartyrsdotcom's everlasting domainname
be not Jahannam, where sinbattered
souls searing attend parole hearings
in liquefied flipflops & halters of palmleaffibres
(presiding Judge Maalik,
every finger on each hand a thumbsdown). Nor
shall it be Jannah, an eternity spent boning 72
Xray houris w/ the most boneable bonemarrow
(my source on  posthumous sexbots sahih)
- la ilaha ilvi-agra! Uh-uh, Heaven niffs & Hell smells,
elevensmiths only endup elevenses for Death
(moreish numbness for some of us who get the taste
for no appetite), not the rasping wraith, but godless gape
we giftwrap in a godshape to guard against
the departed's space
as well as our own dread departuredate.

Mushmazarded hardliner, Semtexas Shrub &
his twinned liar, Jihadliner Binliner, are tantamount
terrorwave riders, bloodbath brothersinlawlessness,
or 2 Horsemen gay dads of Baghdad's bodybags
- married by massacres, John Lewis list on bodybagtags
& oldflame S.Hussein the (body-)bagman for the Blame.  
Like the insatiable Hulk's Wasabi ****, Wahhabism
sows explosions; if kerblammo red rings
of Amerikiddies' sacrificial limbs holdinghands
aren't blastradius haram,
then Hell's moist coals are here & now halal.

& as for Shrub,
Lone Star Jesus Day-legislatin' gub,
Cheneyyank Kaiser, **** warmonger,
his patri-idiotic pout & gospeldegook
is the cackcreek credo  of the G.O.P.,
where the S.O.G. is Jesus Croesus & G-O-D
is the S.O.B. (Sun Ofa Byss) nudging Shrub,
'Armageddon, are we there yet?'
Arragheddon a bayonet
like a rag to septicephalic beast harbinging
the great Satan-contra-Shaytan ruck on Crusadescursed muck
Scripture schedules for *** yoke of the Z.O.G.
I've seen this supervillain smackdown somewhere before,
American Hordak vs. Saudi Skeletor.

i wish i was bigger, dear April
so i could give you a ring
like daddy gave to mommy;
a ring so small so round.
but today, dear April, let’s sing
trees in puddles ripple
mudsplashing holdinghands as
we laugh and cry
because the summer goes by.

i wish i was stronger, dearer April
so i could carry you away
because time is a monster
sleeping under your bed.
but today, dearer April, let’s dance
a ring around the rosies
with May June and July
and let’s pick all the poppies
while spring is in the air.

i wish i was taller, dearest April
so i could hold your umbrella
while we parachute to our dreams
and i’ll catch you when we fall.
but today, dearest April, let’s float
up up up like reverse snowflakes
all the way to the moon
and then uper than the stars
because winter is ending soon.

(i wish i was younger, everdear April
so i could see you again
and smell your hair in sunshine
like angelscent memory.
but today, everdear April, i’ll remember
the way we sang danced floated dreamed
all the way to the moon of marry
until you fell away like a leaf
sailing in the winds of autumn)