Inside he plays fire’ and replace,
While outside he riles up his base.
He’ll sabotage more,
Leave a turd on the floor,
And cut his nose to spite his face.
In a bribery-for-pardon REDACTED,
The attorney and client REDACTED.
A troubling scheme
From a lobbying team
To benefit __ and REDACTED.
Now pardoned and just oozing gratitude,
A General calls out for Martial Law
Redo the vote for its corrupted flaw.
O please. May this pathetic mess conclude.
His lawyer rails on to Stop the Steal.
With wild claims devoid of evidence,
And filings “biblical” with little sense.
A pause to wonder is this bitch for real.
And what a time for William Barr to fail.
Betraying Trump by finding zero fraud.
For one so loyal, this is very odd.
Perhaps a Biden check is in the mail.
Our nation pays a very heavy cost
Because this loser can’t accept: He. Lost.
The Golden State’s in quite a quandary.
A common way forward is gone-dree.
We shelter in place
And cover our face
While Newsom dines at the French Laundry.
A Pentagon purge has begun.
If you’re not tight with Trump, you are done.
It’s a soldier’s chagrin
To find that you’re in
An Army that’s of and for one.
I proudly state before both man and God
My victory comes easily and quickly
If not for evil agents acting slickly
To perpetrate this monumental fraud.
As President I’m asking you to see
If these these electors could be overridden
And should you think this question is forbidden,
The Hatch Act just does not apply to me.
My base knows god damned well that Biden cheated.
My base knows god damned well I walk on water.
Don’t be the guy who gets to own the slaughter
That waits to happen should I be defeated.
If I take Georgia, all falls into place.
If not, my father holds me in disgrace.
Giuliani has COVID’s the header.
Of course, we all hope he gets better.
Though his case is unravelin’
He sure has been travelin’.
This unmasked one-man super-spreader.
Our nation is going insane.
Bi-polar realities, twain.
A circuit is fried
By Trump and his damn monkey brain.
A surprising unanimous blow
Clearly states what we already know.
He can still try and cheat,
But his ass – it got beat,
And even his SCOTUS says, “NO.”
So what will his lie of the day be.
Was there fraud? No. Not even maybe.
Still distort the facts
To placate this tantruming baby.
Dick Hinch saw COVID with a scoff.
Not a care for a fever or cough.
The New Hampshire speaker
Thought caution was weaker.
And proudly died with his mask off.
A “No” comes from the court of rightward tilt:
A state’s election’s none of Texas’ business.
Yet some still rise to serve His Royal Hizness.
And help him play the fraud card to the hilt.
Ken Paxton led the loyal charge today
Against “who serve convenience over law”,
Not one to grasp his case’s fatal flaw,
Perhaps to grab a pardon down the way.
When will our grifter say “enough’s enough”.
And stop this spewing of Alternate Facts
And sate his hunger for destructive acts.
His followers are mad, and they play rough.
Four years we watched this circus-horror show.
Now, there are thirty-nine more days to go.
There once was a lass named Melissa
Who testified drunk as a pissah.
We question the fitness
Of Rudy’s star witness
But Donny Boy still wants to kiss ‘er.
Belligerent, drunk, agitated.
Often armed and poorly educated.
The Proud Boys – A blight
From the fascist far-right.
Wish their daddies had just masturbated.
86 judges and 50 court losses
Said “no” to our would-be boss of all bosses.
With no nod to fraud, not even a token,
At last, the Electoral College has spoken.
Yet after four years of his conning and sinning
The Cheeto Benito still thinks that he’s winning.
On one side, the evidence lines up with facts
The other side offers us threats and Newsmax.
Divided by paranoid calls for resistance
And fueled by delusional, baseless insistence,
Through sad weeks of law suits, due process assailed,
Our crum’bling democracy somehow prevailed.
Now, even Bill Barr’s had enough of this jerk
And as of today, he’s out looking for work.
A relationship’s going to pot.
Poor Trump and McConnell are fraught.
It’s a parting of ways
For in 35 days,
One will still have a job, one will not.
an old page gets turned
as asterisked statistics
join the Major Leagues
The law is quite clear in Palm Beach:
Mar a Lago is past Donald’s reach.
Our so-soon ex-President
Cannot be a resident
With numerous contracts in breach.
The election he still is disputin’
Democrat fraud? Yer darn tootin’!
But still not a tweet
On hackings by his buddy Putin.
Thirty-one. A month to play the waiting game
And what more will he break before he leaves.
Each minute now another loved one grieves
His actions – and inactions – soak up blame.
And without pardons guess who’s heads may roll
Because of Donald’s campaign money laundry.
Now Lara, Kim and Jared in a quandary
With other family members on the payroll.
King Lear in winter calls upon the loyal
A craven yet an ever-dwindling lot.
They clutch at fading options as they rot
To keep the sad reign of this festered boil.
With no concession, ever crying foul,
He ponders Special Council Sydney Powell.
Our ICU units are burning.
Those losing their jobs’ guts are churning
And yet there’s no doubt
All that he cares about
Is election results overturning.
A loser who’d burn all to win.
A liar who’s yarn has worn thin.
A taker who’ll skim
According to whim.
A dictator made out of tin.
His pardons are so out of hand.
Where will all these ex-criminals land.
It may be insane
But I won’t complain
With my stimulus check for 2-grand.
Now innocence is issued by decree.
Where 60 men of 65 are cronies
Incredible. These guys are great. No phonies.
Unlock the gates and let them all go free.
Past actions and behaviors indicated
All efforts in his service are rewarded
And by the pow’r his office has afforded,
Fraud, witness tampering, and murder vindicated.
Now in what petty, nauseating ways
In these remaining twenty-seven days
Will he assure that each opponent pays
For how they ruled on if he goes or stays.
Our deepest sense of justice, cast a-splinter
Observing this Hyena in his Winter.
The stimulus sputters and kluges
Our Government plays us for stooges.
Our way of life wrecked
But what to expect
From a Ruling Class made up of Scrooges.
A sincere and heartfelt Merry Christmas to you and all in your circle.
A car in Nashvile explodes.
The out-of-work lose their abodes.
Trump stays out of reach.
Tee time in Palm Beach
As so much around us erodes.
How many million lose their benefits
How many more already through the cracks
The breaking burdens carried on their backs.
This way of doing business is the shits.
How much pork barrel hidden in relief
How much the pain of landing on the street
Arriving at the ends to find no meat
A New Year’s hope already soaked in grief.
How can a soulless process turn away
How can a system try but fail so many
We small fry, ever dancing for a penny.
Far more than Trump stand guilty on this day.
How sad his interest is but to discover
Just why his wife’s not featured on the cover.
In tweets he’s dejected and bitter.
Won’t concede, but behaves like a quitter.
His erratic deeds
Confirms that he needs
An enema and a sitter.
Dan Patrick has offered, by God,
A million for proof there’s been fraud.
John Fetterman say
He found one in PA,
But the vote was for Trump. How odd.
In view of an upcoming date,
Our president ponders his fate.
The poor guy is hurting.
It’s so disconcerting
That lawsuits and audits await.
A year of loss, a year of profound change
An arc not stalled by simple turn of page
Continuation of the hope and rage
But please, a little less of scary-strange.
Just let this nightmare slither out the door
Each day brought scenes of humans at their worst
And may tomorrow bring a better first
With just a hint of healing at the core.
Here’s to a peaceful final twenty days
No drama or events on which he thrives,
Ringmaster for this circus of our lives,
Just darken now the stage on which he plays.
May 2021 bring some good stuff
Of 2020 we have had enough.