Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
In Maga heaven
There is no scripture here,
only rubber-stamped, pre-approved lobbyists
with tanning bed fangs
******* on a choir of flesh-hungry frat boy ****** interns
chanting “U! S! A!”
with each pharma ****** your medical bills explode..

Matt Gaetz Botox eyebrows
his floating hideous cartoon villain face,
3-D printed and impaled perma- smile
as ubiquitous as underage prostitutes on Epstein's island,
now with more ICE-sanctioned “kids in cages.”

In the smoke-choked outer gates,
a pearly mezzanine,
Rush Limbaugh gurgling and affixed  like a  scuzzy dump
dabbing his crusty *** hanky,
sweating,    teetering,     a  corpulent blob,
leaking Snapple like a stuck pig.

He chortles on an endless A.M. talk radio loop,
his triple chins wobbling like pork rinds in a fat fryer.
4-dollar cigar, 10 inches of colonial sadism,
like his abandoned family burns
wet and slow.

Smoke curls upward,
thick as ***** generational trauma and just as sweet.
It drapes the room like a  gay funeral veil
made of Newt’s christo-fascist scam money
and powdered supplement bile.
"Family  values  "  he insist . preaching,
while serving his dying cancer wife their divorce paper in her hospital bed.

**** Cheney prays to Karl Rove, born on Christmas day,
both as ****** as the driven snow.
skin waxed like Lenin, but on hydraulic exoskeletons.
They fumble trying to hoist their cross-shaped catheters
to spoon-feed one another,
whimpering ineffectually
and muttering into a  minority fetus-shaped walkie-talkie
about more  planes , more planes  needed  in buildings
over Guantanamo freedom.

Sad excuse for  moldered ******
litter the  streets like the intended  death of  tax payer missiles ,       the gods of fear mongering with  their  half      melted war gavels
juddering with every heartbeat stolen from Halliburton pensioners.
Each  prayer  reminds the weak  
"abort   THIS,   *****"
  sunday school  molestations taught
through  bedazzled maga megaphone
mounted where a human heart
is supposed to be.

Mitch McConnell just another waddle flappin  on the  old turkey farm  , in divine chin contempt and  righteous ecstasy from
cancelling  the  last of the schools free breakfast and lunch programs  he smiles from ear to ear. His chins begin shaking.
He falls
on schedule
and is resurrected even more lobotomized each time. (somehow)

Beneath the bankrupt,  cracked Trump Casino marble, the house is still  winning  8 out of 10 times .
but  he can't  make a profit.
The gold rolls its way, to
a small, out-of-the-way obscure footnote of a Ronnie rotunda:
“the  Corpo Tax cut  Apotheosis  of " Star Wars "  Dreams.”

Dan Quayle moans through a diamond-encrusted **** grill,
his libido injected with Reagan Era tax cuts
and oil futures coated in powdered Whitehouse Adderall
from summer camp spelling BEE   , 1987.

His ******* tattooed with 'Tipper Gore,' twitch  Morse code
for “trickle-down,
tickle down,
trickle down.”
Each of Bush's Voodoo economic spasms sends a ripple through the latex Fallwell hymnals
glued to his shriveled, underdeveloped thighs.

Oh, but make way   ye  assured fools!
For  thou  has  no say over your body, Trans or Female,
as
Clarence Thomas
drives his big-block bribery  Winnebago
like he's  riding  a tricycle the size of the Lincoln Memorial.

His scabby, ashen elbows jut out
wobbly  battering rams.

Forgotten...  used and discarded  like Eric
Jared Kushner ,
stole  uncle Clarence's  custom
Golden Supreme Court Rascal scooter,
denting time and space with every vow
and slow ritual bow.

Clarence drools thick black sludge over his Anita Hill poster,
legal ink congealed into constitutional back alley abortion cancer.
His gums gnash "textualisms"
******* ... "textualisms "
( that's a word...  right?)
Johnny Cochran level   "textualisms" !
his  hymn,  a   mantra
turned lullaby,

Corpses of past rulings slough off behind him
like the bribery-bloated garbage snake he is.

Kristi Noem breaks the black reverie with a yelping ******
on all fours... again
beneath a dripping
taxidermied buffalo chandelier,
a pulsating greasy ******* protruding with
corporate logos blinking in
synchronized gun-show glory.
Fur
bloodied, mangled—coyote,
dog,
child? No one asks
as she is paraded past Sandyhook again.

The plug buzzes the Pledge of Allegiance
in MAGA Morse
with a URL for granny donations pls.
Her eyes say thank you to Truth Social.
Rights vanish like the separation of church and state
in this bloated degenerate unqualified puppet show.
Mega churches handing out loaded AR-10s.

Daily   the fresh piles of
dead kids
with NRA stickers on their lunch boxes
blocking the busses only lanes in front of their boarded up schools while the new Mega arena p­lays bikini ****** on the ultra Jumbotron in between penalty flags while brain dead 3 channel havin trailer park daddy gets drunk again, and cries about the liberals turnin all the frogs gay !­

Taco  Manatees cavort
in orange Cheeto dust
bedazzled glue guns threats.
Stormy Daniels *** dolls hang from scaffolds
meant for Mike Pence,
and everyone wipes their *** on stolen nuclear secrets.

The bolt clicks forward
in  to   place.  
The Leopold
calibrated....

The sound bites lacquered and pre- prepared

Amen, Karen. Amen…
This  in my opinion is better than   my   "Slaves enslaving fellow  slaves ...." which has  over 700 reads already
A girl climbs on a pole
Dozens of strangers below
She looks so happy
I wonder where this was
Some basement punk show,
Her own gig?
The best night of her life?
And i wonder if she thought of me
Wished i was there too
I wouldn't blame her if she didn't
I know i made her smile like that
At least i hope i did
It’d make other things i made her do
Move to the back of my mind for once
We would have been better friends
We love the same things now
She would be in my band
We would go to concerts in the city
I would be patient, and never hurt her again
The warmth of our love
Like the warmth of twin car wrecks
In the parking lots of hell
If i had been there,
Either night
This wouldn't be my life
Even in this moment I turn the camera capturing her joy to myself
It wouldn't be my life, but mine's not important
Hers was
If only i'd told her that
She’d have her crosses,
Her flannel
Her shirt she gave to me
Because she wanted to swim at our friend’s birthday party
I said i'd be the lifeguard
But i let her drown
I told her to jump of a bridge
Said i hope she'd drown in the park when it floods
I was only a child, what did i know?
Now everyone is gone
Her, our friend, the pool and myself
I’ve become so like her it hurts
I keep dreaming she’s ok
No part of me wants to admit she’s gone
I deleted all our photos
I wanted to forget
I still sort of do
But out of pain, not anger
im going to see the same band on friday. i love(d) her. can you tell i like the mountain goats lol
Reece Sep 17
Occasionally, I feel like,
I’m being buried by a landslide,
So I go into my room and turn off the lights,
Play music to drown out my plights.
Suddenly, I feel a bubbling,
Deep inside my soul.
It’s been bottled up,
My dam isn’t enough,
And I’m about to lose control.

The truth is,
Sometimes I cry.
When I’m tired of bottling it up inside.
A deconstruction of pride,
Fractured fragments left behind.
My dam can’t hold back,
The tsunami that’s on the attack.
Sometimes, it’s overwhelming,
It can feel like I’m drowning,
In a pool of sorrow,
Of my own making.
It’s hard to stop it,
So methodic,
It keeps on coming back.

Pathetic, sympathetic,
It’s difficult to control it.
Cathartic, ironic,
How do people deal with this?
The waterworks are a virus,
That everyone’s contaminated with.
Can’t show weakness,
Got to keep a straight face,
A mask from the pain.
Let the pillow be the bucket for my sorrows.
Let the tears dampen the fabric of the case.
Let my blankets cool me off, calm me down,
And help me change my frown.

Sometimes all we need,
Is an emotional release.
Perhaps, that’s the way,
To inner peace.
Sometimes, it's best to just let it out.
Jasper Sep 16
You want to die?
I know what that's like.
When you want to -
Not to know what it's like to die,
But so you know what it's like to be dead.
I know what that's like.
Life has ***** your future,
And now you want to make your future
Something life can't ****. I know
What that's like. When you
Can give up easier
Than you can breathe, see,
Feel - Because every
Single
Moment,
Is filled with life,
Your broken life
Like broken glass.
A trail you walk,
And clouds of glass particles
Imbue the air you breathe.
And your hope is like a glass
Before it was ever made.

I know what that's like.
Life broke up with you -
And reality came crashing in
Like a stone. You didn't know
Blood could fracture.
                                 And now,
You know, too
That no matter what you do
Life goes on,

                                                   Elsewhere.
What do y'all think about the placement of Elsewhere?
Kai Sep 16
I know –
I know,
I died for nothing,
I clawed at chains and ripped a bullet out of my skin,
I let it bleed
I watched God leave
I can’t help but to tear off the flesh,
I love the burning, I love the anguish
I need to feel it, feel alive
I can’t help but to split the bones in two
I love the temporary relief, the quick release
I want God
I toss and turn, oh how badly
I want God
Hi
Lance Remir Sep 16
He was only a boy

Wanting to be loved

Then he became a man

Who was broken by it
CE Uptain Sep 19
I’ve got a pen
With miles of ink
More than I have
Things to think

Long distance, operator calls
I’m holding the line
Pen in hand
Writing rhyme to rhyme

You don’t know me
The cynic I am
Rolling all wide open
I don’t give a ****

Here it is, the truth beholds
You’re no different than me
Looking for all those things
Only a heart can see

9/12/25
Apoet's lament about love.
Irelyn Thorne Sep 16
Oh my, don't cry
There'll come a better day
Your body looms so high
Yet has taken a shade of gray

Please don't give in
I hear your thundering scream
Don't let these demons win
Or watch the tears stream

Fear is not an option
Watching the fire in your eyes
A menacing rath which grew
Past the cage of these treacherous lies

Your power consumes now
It rips us all off our feet
Begging for mercy is not allowed
As howling terror roams the street

Deadly flames strike the building sides
The world setting ablaze
Only in destruction do you feel pride
Coating us in your smokey haze

Screeching fills the empty homes
Wrecking it all, brick by broken brick
This feasting power feels all but alone
The revolution of a craving lunatic

Then there begins the echo
As you start to lose your voice
The tears sprinkle as it all lets go
We know you'll be back-there's no other  choice

Now I stand amidst the destruction
I know the pain, I feel your ache
Without mourning, we'll never function
These stormy nights are no mistake
Another late night storm :)
Asher Sep 16
do you ever think, mother, as you snort that pill,
of the life you promised, the love, the thrill?
do you ever pause when you praise the lord above,
and wonder if you failed your daughter’s love?

father, do you think as you kneel and pray,
of the hurt you caused, the price i pay?
do you see the nights i hid my pain,
the lessons you taught me, the silent strain?

mother, when you’re high and drifting away,
do you recall i had to guide your sway?
dragging you gently, laying you down,
while inside me, anger and sorrow drowned?

father, do you lie awake in your bed at night,
haunted by choices, by wrong from right?
do you remember the tears i cried alone,
the love you promised, now turned to stone?

because i remember. every wrong, every scar.
i hold it all close, though it feels too far.
i remember the hurt, the silence, the fall,
and i’ll carry it with me, i remember it all.
Next page