MAGA Circus Maximus
26 January 2k19
“Hey, you well-heeled Big Wheel: Ha! Ha! Charade, you are…
And when your hand is on your heart: you’re nearly a good laugh.
Almost worth a quick grin…all tight lips and cold feet.
Donnie, you’re nearly a treat. But, you’re really a cry.”
~ P. Floyd (paraphrased)
Greetings, Dear Reader. Not much preamble on this one.
It really does cry for itself.
So, let’s get to it…the New Coliseum awaits, and this fuse is burnin’ fast.
Weak Sauce Circus & Wonder Bread (MAGA!)
Nevermind the Wonder Bread
microwaved with that
Whitehouse weak sauce.
We want a brand-new, bloody Circus.
Had it up to here with Trumpery
with Shut Down dread.
We are pissed off at endless
WAR
over lands of water, lands of oil
over who shall eat—who shall serve
over who will punch it—who will swerve.
Over & again, the cauldron boils
Soldiers and Civilians dead
while Politicos cache the filthy spoils.
Do we really have to watch Donnie Trump
grab our nation by the ass & twerk?
MAGA!?
On ne Passe pas!
Nous Voulons un Nouveau Cirque!
You want quiet streets?
You want to keep your head?
Time to deal with us:
Nevermind the Wonder Bread
We want a Shiny Circus!
The USA has never been a Democracy.
And by now it’s just a grifter’s paradise:
a money-grubbing, pig-trough
Patriarchal Ochlocracy.
This bureaucratic circle-jerk
makes me want to lean over those
sleek Gucci kicks and yerk.
Feeling shaky? Feeling tense?
Bust out of that cubicle,
jump off the damn fence.
Come, drop that sammich, join us!
The Coliseum had nothing
on this most American ruckus.
Nevermind the Wonder Bread
Give us a Psychotropic Circus!
Line up for the All-Star
Congressional
naked-paintball playoffs.
You’ll swear you smoked
a squirrel’s adrenalin gland
when ya see the Executive Branch
tear apart the Judiciary Clan!
Rock-em Sock-em
Presidential
dodge bowling-ball?
Yup! Better than a Darby Treat
poppin’ in your skull.
Oi! Got center field seats.
Got some crackerjacks.
Got my Dandelion wine.
I’m warmin’ up on a crowded
bottle-rocket firing line.
Ready to boogie down at
KKK fest: shirts vs. skins
bangin’ at a do-or-die
one-legged, ass kickin’ Kontest.
Nevermind the Wonder Bread
We want a Psychedelic Circus!
How many Fascists
can be crammed in one Clown Car?
Now, that’s what I call a Social Intervention.
First, let me ask a pertinent question:
should we rustle up a weed-whacker
to shave their legs & nethers?
Or maybe settle for good ol’ fashioned
hot tar & feathers?
Nevermind the Wonder Bread
We want a Psychotronic Circus!
Scope the racing form,
see how the Lion races ended.
Ya know, I’m wondering
who just got ate, my friend?
All to Make America Great Again.
DC McKenzie
::End Transmission::
The Excoriation of Donald J. Trump
4 November 2k18
“Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose.
Any minute now I’m expecting all Hell to break loose…” ~ Bob Dylan
What can I say, Dear Reader? The man has brought it upon himself.
I can stand no more of this utter, fascist Trumpery.
Please understand, I know there are those who will be vexed by this post:
whether you can believe it or no, I do have empathy. Yet, I also have a mandate:
Respect Existence or Expect Resistance
Trump and his ilk have gleefully sown the wind.
Now comes the Gale.
The Excoriation of Donald J. Trump
Here is the way of my Curse for you, Donald:
Doom of the craven
and the swindler be upon you—
who makes feast on the blight of poverty
who gorges on the blood of earth, rock, and sea.
You shall have all you blindly desire,
but naught of what you truly need.
You shall find no water in the desert
nor shelter from the burning sun of Judgment.
You have delivered the Earth
into the hands of despoilers.
You shall find no rest therein.
Your carcass shall be rejected.
Even your ashes shall be as salt
upon the ground, and none shall suffer to tread there.
Your black shade shall find no admittance to the Garden
but shall submit tenfold
to the woe and misery your works have wrought.
With left hand you bear the Scepter of Tyranny
while within your withered right
are clenched the thirty pieces of silver for which
you bartered your Soul.
Vultures gather at your feet
and verily they shall name you
Lord of Carrion.
A crown of bone and gore shall be
fashioned for you, and upon it branded
the Sigil of Gluttony.
Tyrant of Twitter, I dub thee.
Highwayman of the Hill, Maestro of Misogyny
Yes, yes…and moreover,
I name thee: Despot of Demagoguery
Brigand of the Beltway and Rustler of the Republic.
Cur, you hustle cowardly
with insolent thugs and greedy pimps.
Scourge of Empathy,
the fire of your abominate words
has lit a conflagration of fear
through the heart of a divided Land.
Never shall the blood of these Innocents
be washed from your brow.
DC McKenzie
::End Transmission::
Dawn Runs Amok 