He's senile, incoherent,
Out of shape,
Out of date.
He tips forward
Cause he blows back wind,
And when he mugs
He waddles his chin.
He smiles and squints
Those beady swine eyes,
Above his lantern-like
Satanic grin.
And it's never about you,
When it's always about him.

Flies follow his brimstone smell,
Like sulphur leaked
From the gates of hell.
The vermin covet
His dependable fill
From a shart attack
While he's standing still.

He's a fake from the toe lifts,
That stop forward tipping;
As fake as orange highlights,
And his mental slippings,
He's glued a fake coif of  fluff,
And, if that's still not enough,
He spews lies,
Framed by his wee hands flailing,
His fetid breath exhaling,
Pouty lips wailing,
And his fat *** trailing
Far behind the Leader.

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

Harris and Trump hit the stage
At stake is the next US president
The debate was filled with rage
The debate was filled with torment

It was like watching a tennis match
With each participant taking shots
Back and forth we watched the barbs hatch
Back and forth each tried to connect the dots

Harris let her racket do the talking
While Trump defended the ball in his courts
The participants were mocking and rocking
The participants built word forts and false reports

Harris wasn't perfect and neither was Trump
But you can see clearly which one looked the part
Both party's stars are looking to triumph
Both party's stars are pledging a fresh start

Time and time again we hear campaign dreams
So it comes down to which candidate you believe in
Which candidate has less Pinnochio inseams
Which candidate you want to win

On November 5th the votes will be cast
And of importance, our American welfare is at stake
So think it over and be true and steadfast
So think it over and make ... no mistake

Logan Robertson

9/11/24

What if I can see it, smell it, almost touch it,
That gilded throne where I will proudly sit,
Would people think me mad,
Is my ambition so preposterous and bad.

And why not me, have I not earned this crown,
Someone not worthy of that queenly gown,
Bejeweled and composed for all to see,
My vassals all around, bowing deep to me.

Naysayers bleat I'm just an empty ship,
With lights and streamers pretending to be hip,
Without a cargo or destination clear,
Sailing in circles relying on the wind to steer.

But if we're given to analogies, what if I were a Trojan horse,
With clear intent and undisputed course,
Where guile and purpose rule the day,
The aim to soundly win not merely one to play.

Demean and underrate me at your peril,
I can pivot between angel and pure devil,
While my laugh is designed to be disarming,
It masks a side of me considerably less charming.

Everything I've wanted I've achieved,
A trajectory few would have believed,
Do you think I'll stop at this last jump,
And in so doing fully flatten Trump?

Whose lie will do less damage?

Nothing personal, it's all political.
Hard rock mine real estate, mind state,
less turmoil, after the blast, settling dust,
grand fluffy occlusions in purple sunsets,
as the herds return to sleeping grounds.

Kinds flock together, all united
under the kinds that shepherd flocks
to fleece them in season and out,
instant,

"Preach the word;
be instant in season, out of season;
reprove, rebuke, exhort
with all longsuffering and doctrine."

Live and learn, or turn and burn
with desire to know where curiosity leads
life out of mind.

Biological means life logos using
Meat machines to make up mind's
Machinations,
PIE *magh-ana- "that which enables,"
from root *magh- "to be able, have power."

"we wrestle messengers, and make 'em pay"

Wille zur Machts misthoughts fog,
into which the white horse disappeared,

leaving the illiterate hedge hog in the clear.

Have you never invited a story to live in you,
did you never attempt to memorize
Casey at bat, or Paul Revere's ride?

At the base, most least highest part of you,
at the sole
of the foot you stand upon,
tree pose, suppose, imagining balance
is a system that makes your spirits rise,
and imbalance attempts prevention,
by increasing the will
to believe I can remain so posed, great
iffing ego boost, foul form
of gaseous wedom
given a good convincing win
in puberty, while transitioning
to fructificating adult…

aha, the man
in the mirror, sees the child
wondering as if wonder were a verb won

by one willing to see if one can see
beneath the blindfold, in the classic game

was it blind man's bluff, or pin the tail,
one of those everybody knows but me games,
popular in ****** forms of making others laugh

at our blindness,
so we all learn a kind
of way we all are different, a way
some find funny as blind poker players.

Is this the tell, can we think we see you lie
?
¿
Is an a a take away, as amaze,
lifts one above
around astounding stories
with miracles fixed dogma used
to judge from, after the last Trump
about the time grace is defined
in religious prep
as unworked for favor, like
"money for nothin' and chicks for free"

but far more culturally refined,
more Trumpian
big iron American, real estate,
******* fixed military order
where only
rank matters,
at the last judgement, that's the tell,

is what a gnat thinks
of an elephant controversial?

Can a gnat make an elephant scratch?

Ai, in the blink of an eye, watch.
Here's mud in your face,
big disgrace, a flea madjaphlench… yo? Y'know?

Earth to the Universe, listen,
there is really too much to take on trust.

True rest, does not allow a liar to lead an army.

Whose face resembles a slapped cantaloupe?
Whose face could curdle cream?
Whose face is in a class of eejits all by itself?
Whose face spews out more **** than his ****?
Whose face resembles a boil in need of lancing?
Whose face would be left on shore cause the tide wouldn't take it out?
Whose face has a waddle waddling like Donald Duck?
Who?

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.