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Saturday, March 25, 2023

MAGAronic

     Truly Uly hears it said: 
MAGA hats are white-on-red.

Through vines of grapes
I heard the line.  
“It just ain’t so,” said I.
When rumor mills
then ground it fine, 
“deny,” I cried. “Deny!”
Then, fin’lly, out
the horse’s mout'
Drumpf's h'rumpf, “I lost,”
was heard.
"'Tain't so," said I.
“You know that guy:
you cannot trust a word...”

Of Pontiffs, Personas and Potables: A Rhyme Spree

Each verse in the  poem  below selects  from two to four  beverages ("pick'd  poisons"), the  last- mentioned of which  is alw...