Go Big or Go Home: a poem for Donald Trump

Originally published on Newsroom

Prezident Cheezel deletes lockdown,
deletes the World Health Organization,
deletes the memory of George Floyd,
then hunkers in his hunker bunker,
hunkers with freedom fries at midnight,
a lights out party at the House of White.
His rancid data dump is oozing out of our phones,
like they say go big or go home.Fires on the perimeter spell DOOM MF
to the ticks, the fleas, and assorted blood suckers.
Ominous weapons and vicious dogs in the streets,
The Donald just keeps tweeting from his tweet cheat sheet.
Hiding behind shooters shooting looting looters,
no one really there, just a ripple of bad energy
troubling the space time continuum zone,
like they say go big or go home.

Tear gas clouds obscure the Church of St Johns,
where the Cheeseburger in Chief is goner than gone
waving a Gideons Bible at the nation,
this walk on bit player out of Revelations.
Day of the Truffid starring the Emperor Werepig,
a rogue Confederate booked for the POTUS gig,
save us Sleepy Joe Biden, establishment clone,
like they say go big or go home.

Bigging up, Trumpettes rage, rage,
against the bleating of the bright:
take your virology and shove it brother,
punching the air as killer cops break cover.
VP Mike Palpatine silently hovers over the floor
while a conga line of suckholes grooves out the door
to home on the range where the bad boys all roam:
like they say go big –
or go home.







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