Meet a marriage made in hell.
The Daddy doubles as the groom.
The bride? Ivanka…badda-boom!
Detect you that mendacious smell,
the bigly el'phant in the room?
It's not Ivanka's new perfume.
The bridesmaid's Conway -- born to sell
chic tchotchkes from Ivanka's Loom.
The goal? To boost Th’Ivanka Boom.
The Queen of Soul assesses well:
"Say, baby, who be zoomin' whom?"
(Ivanka needs a nom de plume.)
That sound you hear? The sunset gun:
just dump the Kool-Aid in your Sanka.
First, though: fashions by Ivanka.
Who's to thank? The Trump Cartel.
('Merci' in French; in German, 'danke.'
Thanks for all you do, Ivanka!)
Poet Poe pens nonsense verse. "Plus...phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." Its gamut runs from spam to worse. The po'sy posted...? Poe's diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a mitzva, mostly. (Not a curse.)
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Composed and illustrated in 2019, each verse of poetaster Ulysses ("Uly") Poe's illuminated nonsense lyric "What A's ...
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