Lyin' Joseph Robinette Biden
Is hidin'
From the press
Who couldn't care less.

Donald Trump
******* King Chump,
And now he's gonna take down
Queen Clown.

I am Indian by birthright,
Simply black when it feels right,
A gender champion through and through,
A Southern Belle from the Bayou.

I cover all the bases from Gay rights to MeToo,
Environmental warriors – I’ll always stand with you.
Black lives truly matter, the Homeless my pet task,
All you need is Me, you don’t even need to ask.

Show me any audience and I'll immediately relate,
Where's the very harm to myself Ingratiate;
They say my laughs a cackle, but that's blatantly untrue,
It's simply Inner-me, reaching out to Outer-you.

As to championing Hamas, that's nothing but a slur,
The fact my husband's Jewish should that thought conclusively deter,
Same deal with loving felons, what will they dream up next,
That I'm a prosecutor who's never read the text?

On drugs and immigration, they titled me the Tsar,
I never asked for that as our Border is too far,
I'd rather spend my days engaging our core base,
Cajoling them to spend for this pivotal new race.

Vance calls me a Chameleon, Trump's confused by who I am,
They'll figure soon enough the cunning of this femme,
The more I keep them guessing, the less prepared they'll be,
When finally I pounce, then they'll twig who's truly me.

I've got the Party pliant, putty in my hands,
Celebrities galore, like shiny rubber bands;
Money pouring in, donors by the score,
All the worthwhile Media gushing it's Kamala they adore.

As to any policies, I don't stay up at nights,
Why worry when my bag holds Reproductive rights;
C'mon Donald, admit you’ve badly lost,
I'm the future President and you’ll be simply Toast.

A coronation, watched by our entire great nation,
Some with trepidation, others boisterous jubilation.
Trump feted, his fawning family silhouetted,
Basking in his light, his confidence and might.

This Grand Old Party, it's followers vociferous and hearty,
Anointing their chosen man, to rule their ever-growing clan;
No harm to love a cause, giving thought and sometimes pause,
To what this passion brings, the words the siren sings.

Whereas strong leadership is good, it can be tainted just like food,
For democracy renounced, cannot then easily be found.
Let’s be careful what we wish, lest it be a poisoned dish,
Our founders crafted choice, beyond just
one resounding voice;

Autocracy is not a word, that in our Lexicon is heard,
We must vigilance ensure, for our country's story to endure.
Unity the dream, but like salmon in a raging stream,
Needs fortitude and grit, knowing when to fight and for the greater good, submit.

I play by the rules day in and day out,
Showing my class, wielding my clout.
I take the hard blows time and again,
Knowing my patience shan't be in vain.

Joe's on the ropes, all by himself,
Waiting around to be dumped on the shelf,
Restraint is my friend, as I pull back and watch,
Those flailing wild jabs I so easily dodge.

There's one rule to fighting, it's Biding your time,
Showing him up, using his dime,
Keeping ones cool, letting him dance,
Then all in one motion - destructively prance.

There's rhyme to the reason for the 12
Rounds to be,
So everyone knows, all clearly can see,
The prowess of one, the demise of the other,
An abject defeat, no spin as a buffer.

The guys just a has been yet I'm giving him grace,
Watching him flail, not setting the pace,
The fun's in the waiting, a matter of time,
For him to fall over, his crown to be mine.

Mumbling, stumbling, inaudible rambling,
The pity, the pain all but Biden now feel,
A spent man bereft, resorting to grumbling,
The fishing line out for opponents to reel.

How did we now reach this insufferable place,
Where a once wily Joe spun his fine web,
Enticing, enveloping with street gotten grace,
His mock Irish banter making folks fall in step.

The ravage of age, that indiscriminate scythe,
Lacking compassion, blind in its grasp,
Cutting down poppy's both lowly and high,
Never once stopping to ponder or ask.

So it falls to the man, with loving advice,
To know when to pen those few final chapters,
Leave it too late and it's a roll of the dice,
A legacy lost and good name in tatters.

Blind pride a sheer folly at most times in life,
Obscuring the path that shows us the way,
The one to traverse with safety not strife,
Avoiding its grasp, not falling its prey.

Country the goal before lowly ambition,
Wisdom and service the call for each day,
This is America's greatest tradition
The foundation from which no leader should sway.

Where to now, uncharted waters,
Two men vying, two men scheming,
Biden gloating, Trump now reeling,
Storm clouds gathering, eyes aloft.

So much anger, consternation,
A million words spewed every day,
Talking heads intent to sway,
Incessant noise drowning our senses.

Gone all reason, truth abated,
Daggers drawn, no time to ponder,
Where is grace, we're left to wonder,
Faint the beacon that shone so bright,

No aim but personal agendas,
Winning the game, no regard to cost,
So much broken, so much lost,
Legacies destroyed, a worthy prize?

Is there hope, slithers of light,
Where discourse and civility prevail,
Or just a forlorn dream, to no avail,
With troughs too deep, waves too rough.

Yet storms pass, the sun burns through,
Foreboding clouds soon dissipate,
Destructive winds gradually abate,
The dawn of hope a promise fresh.

America was born of freedom,
A welcome port, a haven sure,
Ideals the core, intentions pure,
Democracy the linchpin, autocracy despised.

So with heavy heart we bear,
This foisted moment of division,
Holding steadfast for our vision
Of one country united in a dream.

I have a plan
Yes it may be unconventional,
But as a fan
I assure you its success will be intentional.

Most of you may know me
My talent feted shore to shore,
With puppets real as all can see
Talking, singing and much more.

I know I have a skill
And the will to use it right,
Some may say a magic pill
A potent weapon that can bite.

Now that I'm finally a Star
I need embrace the social causes,
No longer propping up the bar
I'm great at mimicking the poses.

One such thought that came my way
To help the old man pull it off,
It's for me to do and say
While he covers with a cough.

I can crouch behind the stand
Prop him up as best I must,
Work his head with my free hand
With experience I'll adjust.

All dear Joe needs do is focus
Read the screen and move his lips,
They won't know that's it's all bogus
That I've written all the scripts.

Only this way can he win
As my famous mates all say,
A little magic is no sin
If I get him through each day.

Should he stray I've got a treat
An ice cream cone well in his sight,
Only once his tasks complete
Will I let him take a bite.

I'm a patriot as all can see
I'll move mountains to beat Trump,
If Joe's to win it’s up to me
And if he flags I've got the pump.

I know I'm slightly losing it and Jill sees that now too,
So all we can but hope for is to Bluster and to Woo.
What If I sometimes falter with names or something more,
Only Fox is bent on keeping that lame and pointless score.
The rest of my fan Media provides me with great flak,
While I air my inner Irish and repeatedly attack.

As to the clueless voters I truly feel for all,
I quietly do get them, as the choices do appall.
Trump is but a cannon with a worn-out rusty bore,
Little in the barrel spraying mayhem aft and fore.
And to my friend Kamala, words truly don't suffice,
But no-one of sound mind would want to roll that dice.

So what are we now left with that possibly makes sense,
To getting people voting and off that dreaded fence.
I'm quite the only choice if truth be clearly told,
Despite the fact I'm quirky and obviously quite old.
Thank goodness for the knowledge my team will see me through,
I bless HIM every night for this weird creative crew.

They tell me what to say whenever I might need,
Have me practice all **** day to show that I can lead.
It's a challenge for them all but what about for me,
I’m sure it’ll be worth it in the end as you will see.
And while this plan unfolds I’ll keep a low profile
Speaking ever less as has become my style.

There is one thing that worries me far more than I would care,
Jon Stewart's now resurfacing with his weird confounding stare.
Throwing comments like sharp knives as a rapper from the hood,
And jabs like some street **** with a blistering left hook.
I’m asking my top people to rush him off the air,
The answer that I’m getting is pretend he isn’t there.

None of this a problem, the story of my life,
I cherish a good brawl and every dose of strife.
Abortion is my ticket with progressives by my side,
This alone will stem the frothing MAGA tide.
Just watch me now perform with my wily stash of tricks,
For if Trump is made of Teflon, I’m made from Scranton bricks.