Weeping pustules, chancre sores
Anal crabs and turd s’mores
Fungal Donald and Russian whores
(Some are threes, none are fours
Unibrows and giant pores)
This raging spawn of rancid sewers?
I don’t want him, that makes him yours.
(Audience snaps fingers in approval, sips espresso, takes more benzedrine. Next, an anorexic existentialist does A Dance to Spring…)
Why do you hate me?
Anyway, I’m sorry to say that it’s not the worst poem I’ve ever read. Hell, it’s not in the top 100. For one, it lacks discussion of souls and nothing is set off by tildes!
“The Domhnall’s a giver whilst others just take / Ne’er gaining from that which his hands did not make.”
Humpity-Trumpity
Orange new POTUS
Is planning to tweetstorm
'Til freedoms are gone.
Acetaminophen’s
The panacea
That eases the headaches
His postings bring on.
Come, they told me, Ta-rump pa pum pum
A gilded king to see Ta-rump pa pum pum
Our finest days he’ll bring Ta-rump pa pum pum
Straight white and proud we’ll be Ta-rump pa pum pum, Trump pa pum pum
Trump pa pum pum
Make us great again Ta-rump pa pum pum
Gee are we dumb.
Little tweeting fool Ta-rump pa pum pum
I am a poor boy too Ta-rump pa pum pum
Just not in spirit like you Ta-rump pa pum pum
My purse will have to do Ta-rump pa pum pum, Trump pa pum pum
Trump pa pum pum
Shall I vote for you Ta-rump pa pum pum
Because I’m so dumb