Quivering the forked tongue
Spews venom merrily
Shyster politician

The preacher, the politician both the same
Nothing but swindlers spewing specious sermons
Noisome talk from their mouths came
Rapacious hands, oh what vermin!

I, as if compunctious for my fault
Left feeling only surfeited  
Fulsome factitious assault
I am left as the convicted

The Dufus Oompaloompa in Chief
Is nothing but a high-level thief.
He constantly lies and all he tries
Is a rich man’s version of relief.
He’s another rich guy on welfare.
He uses every ***** trick he can use
You see his crooked face everywhere;
He keeps his ugly mug in the news.

His morality is virtually nonexistent
He’s never been a commendable fellow.
And because he is truth-resistant
He’s a braggart, a liar and he’s yellow.
His life has been a study in selfishness,
He’s been a *******, a predator and crook.
His biography is an unreal literary mess.
As he has never liked going by the book.

Listening to him speak you can see
He is lying with almost every word.
He can’t interact with anyone honestly
You can’t believe a single word you heard.
Inside his head must be something like
A painting by Bosch or Salvatore Dali
Even if his head ends up on a pike
He’ll still be as bright as a collie!

Donald Twittler, not a pretty picture
Sees himself as some kind of king.
Makes constant promises,
Doesn’t know what integrity is,
His word really doesn’t mean a thing.
Donald Twittler reveres Adolf ******
Wants a Nuremberg rally of his own.
He craves mass adulation
From a battered nation
From the mistakes that are his alone.

Donald Twittler phones from the *******
Rages  online in the middle of the night.
Each complaint anyone makes
He claims they’re all fakes
As if he's ever known wrong from right.
Donald Twittler, the personification of a drifter,
Has no relationship with the truth at all.
Don’t bother asking why;
He’s the best his Dad could buy,
And he’s never had to be on the ball.

Donald Twittler, a slimy sort of critter
Gets climaxes from national attention.
He has never had morals;
Buys his way out of quarrels,
If he had a soul it’s far beyond redemption.
Donald Twittler, thinks he’s better than ******
And we should all kiss his big fat ***.
More than half of us disagree
And urge him to quickly flee
Because most of us would just as soon pass.

The Non-Subliminal Criminal
High Priest of Hypocrisy
The Diplomat of Draft Dodgery
The Great Example of Paying Test-Takers

The Loudmouth of Wealthy Fakery
The Main Proof of Miseducation
The Nanocrat of Non-Payment
Potentate of *******

Sultan of **** Patronage
The Grand Poobah of Poopoo
The Big Wheel of Blather
The Salesman of Bull-puckey

High Lama of Skullduggery
The Master Purveyor of Inaccuracies
The Pride of Misrepresentation
The Scion of Misdirection and Nepotism.

The Black Knight of Spite.
The Grand Lizard of Hate and Bigotry
The Fomenter of Torment.
The Master of Catastrophe

The Master of the Quick Disaster
The Worshipper of War by Proxy
The Lover of Lies and Liars
The Promiser of Pusillanimity

The Handmaiden of Bribery
The Worshipper of Massive Greed
The Purchaser of Fake News
The Dandy With Unseen Clothes.

The Undead Ghost of the Capitol
The Horrible Haunt of the Presidency
The Embodiment of Embarrassment.
The Shamelessness of Gross Shuckery.

Flames covering
architects of the future
that were called worthless
on their hollow minds.

Burn, burn!

They said,
when future seemed
too promising
for their weakness to take control.

Someone watched from the door
same ***, different age
- young, human being

hoping in a shocked state

that he can still build
on top of the ruins.

Words manipulator,
weaves magic to enthrall mass,
A politician.

You’ve never grown up
You’re just a big kid
But only big on the outside.
To you, life’s a game
And we’re all just the same
We’re along for your crazy ride.

No use in sighing
After all your lying
Don’t come crying to me.
It’s almost gotten
That you’re so rotten
It will be a lot of fun to see.

The way you play around
You’ve never left the playground
But you still steal the money and chalk.
You want things your way
And every single day
And if you don’t get it, you walk.

No use in sighing
After all your lying
Don’t come crying to me.
It’s almost gotten
That you’re so rotten
It will be a lot of fun to see.

Fix things for yourself
And lean on someone else
I have learned all about your rules.
You cheat and you steal
Because none of us is real
And you think all of us are fools.

The Talking **** is babbling
He’s not quite capable of reason.
He’s busy patting his own back
Every day, every month and season.
The Talking **** is assuming
As usual that we can’t think.
But we know for a certainty
That a talking **** still stinks.

The Talking **** is promising
All the miracles he will perform.
He’ll take credit from others
After all, that’s his norm.
He’ll put down the good efforts
Of those who came before
Who actually did the good work
While he worked on his golf score.

The Talking **** is not required
To make very much good sense.
He has his Nazis beside him
And a crowd of the politically dense.
He says what he knows pleases
Those who are not quite bright.
He chants the hateful dogma
Adopted by fools on The Right.