His
nous is fake.
(His
gnus…?
Fake
too, folks feel.)
Now
he, with
(thanks
to Yiddish kin)
fake
“…nu…?”s
may daily deal.
Still,
we’ll make sure,
impeachin’ him,
the
douche’s noose
is
real.
Each verse in the poem below selects from two to four beverages ("pick'd poisons"), the last- mentioned of which is alw...