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Friday, September 20, 2019

Tricksters Arachne and Br'er Rabbit Through Coyote and Daedalus With Footnotes in Verse: Exercises in Academical "Arachnarchy"

Presenting either the last word or the final straw in abecedarial academic verse. Herein the footnotes rhyme -- and have their own footnotes -- while the footnote numbers are not superscripted but are bold and rest right on the baseline. Talk about unorthodox!

     * Sgt. N. ("Jim") Smithe-Magee (the N stands for 'Nabokov') 

Form: The first line of each stanza introduces that verse’s key initial and a word initiated by it. There follows a second line, one referencing a notable trickster from the worlds of folklore or fiction, the initial cap of whose name also matches the verse’s key letter. Line three provides an informative segue between the characteristics or behavior of the trickster referenced in the second line and those of the bearer of one of the many aliases of Sgt Jim N. Smithe-Magee, an arch-trickster and the primary editor of the poem and its explanatory footnotes. Or, as often as not, all the rigors of the entire aforesaid formality are tossed to the winds. So much for form.

Method: (A) One anagram alias of Sgt. Smithe-Magee is selected from the PlaysWell document “Udderwise Known As” for use in line four. (B) A rhyming dictionary is consulted and the selection of words that rhyme with the selected name are examined. A four-syllable rhyming word (or, with a tweak to the form of the line, a three-syllable one) is selected for use in line one. (C) The name of a trickster from literature is selected. Line two is composed. (D) Line three is composed. (E) Items to be footnoted are selected and numbered. The footnote lines, whose rhyme and meter are identical to those of the principle lines, are composed. (F) Further necessary, though non-rhyming, footnotes are selected, numbered and lettered. These footnotes are composed.

Procedure: Read aloud if possible. Each verse begins with a large initial cap which should be screamed. Four trochaic lines are read in order at normal voice levels, followed by their footnotes, also trochaic, in order, although these footnotes’ numerals aren’t enunciated. The footnotes appearing further below (those enumerated by a numeral with lowercase letter appended) are not to be enunciated either but are merely to provide additional information or comment and thus are without regular meter.

Index of Openings: A is for anatomy… B is for behaviorist… C is for coincident… D must be for dodo’s egg… E…is it for epithet…? F may be for funnyman… G’s for Gandalf Greyhame, grig… H may be for holograms… I…is it for infamy…? (a work in progress)

The Verses

A is for 'anatomy.' [1]

Aunt Nancy's [2] nurselings (ar - a - ne -

i - dae [3] ) notch "knives" [3a] which nick the knee

of Sgt. N. ("Jim") Smithe-Magee. [4]


[1] Some organism's parts (i.e.,
one subset of morphology).
[2] A spider folk-name [2a] from SC [2b] 
(South Carolina, not Sud Cay [2c] ).
[3] Some taxo-terminology
for 'spider' (not for 'honeybee').
[4] An anagram for...hey, that's me! [4a] 
('Tis all a "grammarrangementcy." [4b]


[2a]  'Aunt Nancy' is a corruption, heard in the southern U.S., of 'Anansi.' Both names refer to a character from West African and Caribbean folklore who, though a spider, often appears and behaves as a man -- or, as in this instance, a woman. 
[2b]  Pronounced "ess-see" you see. 
[2c]  A small island, man-made (and made-up), which surfaces, ala Nemo's Nautilus, now and again in Charleston's  harbour.
[3a]  'Knives' provides a metaphor for the more strictly anatomical 'fangs.' 
[4a]  The Sarge, in addition to being the blogger responsible for this and other posts on the PWWL site, is considered in many quarters to be quite the arch-trickster. As will be seen, he is known by an ABC's worth of aliases -- at least. 
[4b]  Said of letter rearrangements, as with anagrams, "...an area of expertise of Sgt. Jim N. Smithe-Magee's..." (the N stands for Nonsense). And with the mention of 'anagram,' the first verse comes full circle. But wait: There's more...much more. 

B is for 'behaviorist.' [1]

Br'er Rabbit…? [2] Nossir! Skinner's list

insists this critter's kin's [3] been kiss'd [3a]

by Shem G. ("Jet") Enigmamist. [4]


[1] A branch of Psych -- one Chomsky [1a] diss'd,
and Rachlin, [1b] too, in part, dismiss'd. 
[2] This trickster/rabbit shook his fist,
tried totalling T. B. [2a] -- but miss'd. 
[3] I.e., his relatives consist
of bluffers -- briefly, that's the gist. 
[4] An anagram for Teemingmist --
we mean J. ("Shag me!") Teemingmist. [4a] 

[1a]  Linguist Noam 
[1b]  footnote in the works
[2a]  None other than the wonderful Tar Baby, a character who makes his initial appearance in the Uncle Remus Stories of Joel Chandler Harris. 
[3a]  I.e., influenced. The word used here is the metaphorical 'kiss'd,'
[4a]  An anagram, as well, for Sgt. Jim N. Smithe-Magee.


C is for 'coincident.' [1] Coy-

-ote’s [2] counterfeits: Their bent…? To

magnify [3] the devilment of

one Miss Jammie G. (“The Gent”). [4]

[1] “Contemporary with” is meant
(at least, such is the po’m’s intent).
[2] Coyote’s Raven’s [2a] complement.
A trickster…more: A malcontent.
[3] To reinforce, i.e., augment,
chicaneries his crafts foment.
[4] Miss Jammie’s [4a] aka Clar’ Kent. [4b]
(Jam rents a pent [4c] in Stoke-on-Trent.)

[2a] Another Native-American trickster anthromorph.
[4a] An additional alias of arch-trickster Sgt. Jim N. Smithe-Magee (the N stands for 'Nobody').
[4b] I.e., Clare (or Clara) Kent -- in any case, neither is to be identified with nor any relation to Clark, aka Superman)
[4c] Short for penthouse apartment. (Embrace the irony -- i.e., a short word substituting for a tall residence.)

D must be for 'dodo’s egg.' Ol'

Daedelus, that Doric yegg, [1] laid

two [2] ; his dritt’ dodge [2a] “tugg'd the peg” [3] of

poor J. Stegman (“Mistie Meg”). [4]

[1] A dext’rous trickster, brim to dreg.
(Abandoned Crete for Winnepeg. [1a]
[2] First one: Ic's wings [2b] (prognosis: Neg! [2c] ).
[2d] His next: Inventing mumblety-peg. [2e]
[3] A variant for 'pulled the leg.' 
You need one more? No dunning: beg!
[4] Aka Sgt. Jim (not Craig)
N. Smithe-Magee, [4a] Highpriest of Gleg. [4b]

[1a] A small island near Mykonos
[2a] I.e., his third scam (why it’s numbered in German remains undetermined)
[2b] Those mechanical ones fashioned for his son, Icarus
[2c] I.e., they proved unsuccessful
[2e] The so-called “game of the gods”
[4a] The infamous trickster, not to be confused with his brother Craig N. Smithe-Magee.
[4b] The squint, the sly look; routinely said of tricksters

Penn'd in the Fall, Folks (of 2016)

His aim’s to appall, folks.
He’s building a wall, folks. 
With thumbs short ‘n’ small, folks,
he tweets folderol, folks.
(So: how many Justices
will he install, folks…?) 

With gaze oozing gall, folks, 
he’s answ'ring fans’ call, folks,
which fans tend to brawl, folks,
and talk with a drawl, folks.
(So: which third-world dictators
does he enthrall, folks…?) 

His moll is a doll, folks.
His kids own the mall, folks.
His tales are all tall, folks -- 
though "Screwball!” some bawl, folks.
(So: when will his “telling it like it is”
pall, folks...?) 

In marts label'd Wal-, folks,
for toadies he’ll trawl, folks.
His druthers…? To loll, folks, 
or foist free-for-all, folks.
(So: if he’s elected,
what fate might befall folks…?) 

He never will crawl, folks,
nor will his rise stall, folks.
I’m fearful of Fall, folks.
Says he: “Fuck you all, folks!”
(So: which of his challengers
plans a withdraw’l, folks…?}

Meanwhile, who’ll opt
to him stop with a mawl, folks…?
And who’ll give their all, folks,
to see the man crawl, folks…?
Or move to Transvaal, folks…?
Or throw in the tow’l, folks…?
(So: what can be done
to make Don cry, “That’s all, folks…?)

Thursday, September 19, 2019

Trump On the Stump

We know, we know: he's always on the stump. But cast your mind back to early in 2016 when he was 
having at it -- this as you now realize how we all should have paid much, much more attention.

"I'm Donald Trump! Out on the stump, I hear folks trumpet: 'DON-ALD TRUMP !'
Their cheerin' pumps up Donald Trump. My pitch…? “I'm rich!  I'm Donald Trump!"
"In Iowa, The Donald’s slumpin.' Second place, though, ain't no thumpin.'
Still, for Scott I'll not be plumpin.'" (Later, Walker helps get Trump in.)
"I cherish strumpets: wed me three!* And crumpets, 'cuz I'm Trump, love me.”
(No liar, Trump: he loves to hump! But don't "Har-r-r-rump'!" He’s Donald Trump.)

     * The Eve to Trump…? Ivana Trump. A short-term Trump was Marla Trump.
The current Trump...? Melania Trump. (Nor not one bride of Trump's a frump!)

"I'm Donald Trump! I love my hair, that scrumptious clump I wear up there.
My thinnin' "sumpthin'" makes some stare. Still, I'm no chump: I'm Donald Trump!"
"I love the Jews: my daughter's one. I'm Netanyahu's unsung son.
And when I can I'll bomb Iran. No Forrest Gump: I'm Donald Trump!"
"I love my spicks. (They're rapists, pricks!) I love my blacks despite their lacks.
love my hicks. (I lo-o-o-ove their PACS -- though most are dicks and all are hacks)."

"I'm not a Lib! I'm not a Tea! I'm worth ten billion -- with a 'b'!
The GOP…? They're piss’d at me. Their queues I jump! I'm Donald Trump!"
"I'll build a wall -- muy mucho tall -- to nix the spicks. Nor is that all:
I'll get those spicks to buy its bricks. Fuck Forrest Gump! I'm Donald Trump!"
"I hate McCain: he lost his plane! No hero, John!" (The Don moves on!)
"I diss'd Rick P ‘cuz he diss'd me. Don't on me dump: I'm Donald Trump!"

"That Huffington: she's such a bitch! With NBC I've hit a glitch.
Plus, have you heard…? I'm very rich! When I say 'Jump!' all heed the Trump!"
"I Lindsey diss’d: he got me piss’d. What say we phone that little cyst…?
His phone's unlisted -- or it was... Is Trump too blunt…? Just lump it, cuz... 
...I'm lewd; I'm crude; I’m oozing 'tude! Jeb Bush…? He's weak! (My mind I speak.)
Him and his bro both love my dough. Want Donald's bump…? Don't dump on Trump!" 

"I'm Donald Trump! Yeah...Donald Trump! My niche…? Tres riche! (But hold the quiche.)
I pillory Bill’s Hillary: her job at State…? Eleventh-rate!"
"Ted Cruz…? Big snooze! Rand Paul's sans balls! That Hammerkraut: What's he about…?
Remember Mitt…? Prov'd not worth shit! Dick Nixon…? Dim! Who thinks of him…?"
"Mike Huckabee: don't fuck with me!" No one's as wonderful as he,
the Donald Trump! (Out on the stump, just hear folks trumpet: 'Heil, Herr Trump!'")

Wednesday, September 18, 2019

/TUR/ de Force

Tura-Lura: Gaelic schtick. Turbulance: it makes me sick.
Terce, sext, nones: three Roman hours. Turds one ought not drop in showers.
Soups get serv’d from brass tureens. Turf wars…? Fought on village greens.
Turgid: pompous, overblown. Turhan Bey: not now well-known.
Tourist traps: no fun to visit. Turjistan: near Turkey, is it…?
Turks (or Caicos): tropic isle. ‘Terlet’’s ‘toilet,’ rural-style.
Term insurance: basic need. Turnabout: fair play, indeed.
Turok hunts for dinosaurs. Turpin’s eyes be cross'd. (Like yours…?)
Turquoise: blue-green gemstone shade. Turret…? Wherein dwells fair maid.
Tersely notes some cosmic clown: “'Tis turtles, all the damn way down.”
Turu’’s javanese for ‘sleep.’ Topsy-turvy starts with ‘steep.”
Turwilliger’s on second base. Turx jokes always hurt my face.
Century…? A hundred years. Goodwyn, Powell & Turzo. Cheers!

Tuesday, September 17, 2019

The Tweedles On Suits

“Play’d ball, The Ass of Di'monds did," droned Dum, as home his homey slid. 
"Play’d golf as well…at local links. We call’d him Ass of Clubs, methinks.
(Play’d soccer, too, a Melbourne side.*)" "Was Ass of Hearts his name…?" Dee cried.
"Nope. Him we dubb’d..." Dum answer’d back "...The Ass of Spades: his butt burn'd black." 

     * Perhaps a reference to the Melbourne City FC, known until recently as Melbourne
Heart. (Gosh! Another Suit.)

Monday, September 16, 2019

Vowel Movements or the Comings & Goings of My Vocables

Today my A’s 
been led away.
My weeping E’s 
turn’d in her keys.
Search low; search high: 
I cannot spy 
my I.

Insists my O, 
“I gotta go.”
“As I must, too,“ 
includes my U.
Each goes “adios,” 
as -- sometimes -- goes 
my Y.

My A – hooray! – 
now’s back to stay.
Re-greet my E 
at early tea.
“I’ll not deny 
our old school tie,“ 
says I.

“I’ve miss’d you so,” 
remarks my O.
Appends my U, 
"I miss'd you, too."
(I need ‘em nigh – 
yes, even -- sometimes -- 
Y.)

Sunday, September 15, 2019

Watch Out!

Watch 'ape,' a word, becoming 'bird' -- or 'coach-and-four' – or 'darkroom door.'
Catch 'elm,' a term, becoming 'firm' -- or 'gapers' block' – or 'hearty hock.'

See 'inch,' as gloss, becoming 'joss' -- or 'kinderdijk' – or ‘Lyle likes Ike.’
Mark 'mayonnaise,' though not a phrase, become ‘not nuts' – or ‘oars or butts.'

Observe as 'perm' (a hairstyle term) becomes 'Quran' – or 'race Ron ran.' 
Note 'stuff' (a noun) becoming 'down' -- or 'undersea' -- or 'VIP.'

Attend as 'word' becomes '(e)x-Kurd -- or 'yelp 'n' yell' – or 'Zinfandel.'
(Those language buffs get down ‘n’ dirty. Heads up! Better watch the wordy.)

What Is It?

     (At this rate, perhaps we'll never know.) 

The radio predicted snow. Alas! It had no clue.
“’Twill snow,” it said. What fell instead…? Great piles – small isles! – of snoo.

“What’s snoo…?” ask’d you as snooflakes flew. “A snoo-short world would know.
‘Twould quite the coup ensue if you could sever 'snoo’ from ‘snow.’"

(Do slide shows show how whirlwinds blow the snoo from fro to to…?
No! Snoo’s like shite -- albeit white: ‘tis strewn from out the blue.)

“'Tis ten till two: more snoo be due,” coo'd you. “Before you go,
explain once more we you implore: Distinguish ‘snoo’ from ‘snow’!”

Saturday, September 14, 2019

When Trump No Longer Towers

Trump glowers. Trump glowers
for hours ‘n’ hours...'n' hours
as fasces foul Trump scours.
(This lad ain’t Adenauer’s.)

Trump then 'n' now (and how!) errs
in framing Potus powers
with shouts: “Trump never cowers.”
But, fin’lly, Trump’s Tao sours.

We People cry, “Enowers!*
That Hun’s no son of ours!”
Trump quits…then hits the showers.
The GOP's sent flowers...

...when Trump no longer towers.

     * ‘Enowers,’ meaning, roughly,
‘enough, already, fer kryssakes,’ 
is a portmanteau word pairing the 
Rubaiyat’s ‘enow’ with the suffix
‘-ers’ paralleling the derivation of 
Britspeak’s 'preggers' from 
‘pregnant.’

Friday, September 13, 2019

Judy Su-Do-Ku

(Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty.) 

Su-Do-Ku!
Su-Do-Ku!
Pseudo…? No. That’s s-o-o-o untrue!
Su-Do-Ku:
all-new, a coup. (A-hoo! A-hoo-hoo!)
True, people choose to Su...
Nu…? (Few refuse to
Su-Do-Ku.)

Zoot suits Su. 
Sioux Jews Su.
Fu Manchu and Toto, too,
Su-Do-Ku.
Let's Su-Do too (a-hoo), we two (a-hoo-hoo).
Cool dudes enthuse to Su...
forgo a cruise to
Su-Do-Ku.

"So I Su!
So me sue,"
broods Jude. "Who'd be you to 'pooh'…?
So, soak you!
I pursue Su-Do-Ku -- I do (a-hoo-hoo).
All through our zoos gnus 'Su,'
pay beaucoup dues to
Su-Do-Ku."

Su-Do-Ku's
apercus…?
Arithmetic! Eremetic! Whoop-de-doo!
Zut! Doh!! Whew!!!
Let's Su-Do-Ku (a-hoo), let's do (a-hoo-hoo).
Nope, 'taint no news Jude Sus:
any excuse to
Su-Do-Ku.

Su-Do-Ku!
Su-Do-Ku!
Dr. Who Sus, Passepartout Sus, Baby Roo…
Su-Do-Kus
Let's Su-Do too (a-hoo). Who knew (a-hoo-hoo)…?
You got dem blues…? Eschew dem brews! Refuse dat booze!
You gotta
Su-Do-Ku!

Who knew yours true'ld
Su-Do, too!
Alphabetic…? Nope...yet thetic! Su-Do-Ku!
Su-Do-Ku…?
We'll Su a du'! I'm through (a-hoo-hoo).
But, 'fore I overdo,
and croon "adieu!" (T'who…?
Sue D'O'Koo…?)...

     ...I'll cope with
losers' moues,
enduring pseudo-
Su-Do-Kus...

     ...we've nowt but
fear to lose:
just don't abuse our
Su-Do-Kus…

     ...be youse He-
brews or Druze,
just form two queues for
Su-Do-Kus…

     …put on those 
blue suede shoes
and lose those
Charleston Chews…
 
     …peruse those
bloodless coups,
the ooze of
cordon bleus

     …eschew les
pas de deuxs,
pass through new
peer reviews…

     …taboos and
deja vus...

     …of Su-Do-Kus...

     …ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh!

Sunday, September 8, 2019

A Duo on Don eQuivoqie

I.

Gone the days of Honest Abe or
George who cannot tell a lie.
Dishonest Don, who's now our neighbor,
lives -- eQuivoqatin’ Guy! 

Here lies Drumpf. There lies Drumpf.
Ev’ry(frickin’)where lies Drumpf.
“C’est la guerre!” lies. “So unfair!” lies.
“Truth or dare” lies. “That's real hair!” lies.

Floral lies or Loreleis…?
No: more and more immoral lies.
Plus, quite a range of “climate-change-
does-wonders-for-our-coral” lies.

There lies Drumpf. Here lies Drumpf.
Far away and near lies Drumpf.
All we hear...? Lies. Burn-our-ear lies.
Multi-tier lies. (Lied to we’re.) Lies!

Sympathize or analyze…?
No. Made from whole-cloth flannel lies.
And soon, no doubt, he’ll be about
his “fibs-to-Senate-panel” lies.

II. 

Drumpf lies.
Some synthesize. Some stylize.
Drumpf lies.
Some bowdlerize. Some fantasize.
Some bastardize. Some plagiarize.
Some outsize. Some accessorize.
Some upsize. Some hyperbolize.
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf lies with brash audacity.
Drumpf lies.
Drumpf’s fraud’s of vast capacity.
What Drumpf terms perspicacity
the demos deems mendacity.
The truth..? Drumpf lacks veracity.
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf lies about his hands’ small size.
Drumpf lies.
Drumpf global climate change denies.
Drumpf libels ocean level’s rise.
Pinocchio’s with whom Drumpf vies.
“The media’s fake news,” Drumpf cries.
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf hones his Jones for border walls.
Drumpf lies.
For Mexico to pay Drumpf calls.
As GOP’s agenda stalls,
down Drumpf’s approval number falls.
But what’s Drumpf done that most appalls…?
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies,
as from the stump Drumpf rolls his eyes.
Drumpf lies
as allies plump for Drumpf’s demise.
On teleprompters Drumpf relies.
Drumpf asks not “Who?”s or “What?”s or “Why?”s.
The Alt-right Drumpf now deifies.
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf tweets, “Mendacity...? NOT! Mirth.”
Drumpf lies.
Drumpf’s lengthy ties can’t guise Drumpf’s girth.
Drumpf’s lies impugn Obama’s birth.
Drumpf’s evidence…? Drumpf cites a dearth.
Drumpf channels William Randolph Hearth.
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf’s fictions come as no surprise.
Drumpf lies
as ‘round on Air Force One Drumpf flies.
Drumpf shuns “consent.” Drumpf ducks “advise.”
Hyperbole Drumpf reifies
Asked “When begin your long goodbyes…?”
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies
as Drumpf Obama’s bridges burns.
Drumpf lies
as Drumpf the world’s aversion earns.
Each day we learn Drumpf never learns.
For fib-free facts the public yearns.
And what about Drumpf’s tax returns…?
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
That skullet Drumpf calls hair Drumpf dies.
Drumpf lies.
Drumpf’s crowd size video belies.
Drumpf’s boys…?
Chew toys for Russian spies.
They say with Russia Drumpf forged ties.
Who’ll prove with Russkys Drumpf allies…?
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Untruths are just Drumpf’s stock in trade.
Drumpf lies,
though Drumpf’s tall tales are now so-o-o play’d.
If only Drumpf’s elan would fade.
(How, meanwhile, IS Drumpf’s hair arrayed…?
Is pomade sprayed…? Or Marmalade…?
Drumpf lies.)

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf’s quick to Congressfolk chastise.
Drumpf lies.
Free speech Drumpf plans to crim’nalize.
Drumpf’s moue is much like Captain Bligh’s.
Drumpf’s view of science…? Not Bill Nye’s.
Our freedoms Drumpf will jeopardize.
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
On white supremacy Drumpf ran.
Drumpf lies.
Drumpf spite…? His Muslim travel ban.
Drumpf’s Cabinet’s white, to a man.
(Well, sev’ral gals, but wan, not tan.)
Drumpf lies, ‘twould seem, because Drumpf can.
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf briefings fails to analyze.
Drumpf lies.
Drump’s double dealings take the prize.
Drumpf cherishes blonde cutie pies.
Drumpf labels ‘em “Drumpf’s Loreleis.”
Drumpf grabs ‘em well above their thighs.
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf’s loathe to learn. Drumpf’s quick to bore.
Drumpf lies.
Drumpf’s failed to grasp what facts are for.
Drumpf’s “fact-alternatives”…? Drumpflore.
“I’ll always tell the truth,” Drumpf swore.
But Drumpf’s a disinforming whore.
Who lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf U’s degrees scant knowledge buys.
Drumpf lies.
With racist bait Drumpf’s base Drumpf plies.
From ver’similitude Drumpf shies.
Drumpf bears false witness to the skies.
We’ve looked into Drumpf’s lyin’ eyes:
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf’s forgeries are to a fault.
Drumpf lies.
The truth…? Drumpf keeps that “in the vault.”
Drumpf fools around with debt default,
brings regulation to a halt.
(Drumpf does abstain from barleymalt…
but lies.)

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf tweets, “Whose fault…? Masala chai’s.”
Drumpf lies.
“Whose fault? Those seven samurais’.”
“Whose fault…? The constant number pi’s.”
“Whose fault…? Diana’s (Princess Di’s).”
Whose fault…? It’s always other guys.’
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf’s family…? Poster kids for greed.
Drumpf lies,
and spreads Drumpf's lies with campaign screed.
Drumpf chants, “Drumpf hits the ground at speed.”
Drumpf rants, “Drumpf’s all you need to heed.”
(Has Drumpf the skill to even read…?)
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
Drumpf Steaks who but a loser buys…?
Drumpf lies.
The gals who sew Drumpf’s hats are Thais.
A vote for Drumpf’s at best unwise.
Drumpf lets the ship of state capsize
while building Drumpf Hotels...in Schweiz.
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
America made great again…?
Drumpf lies.
It’s great for weathy old white men.
Our laws be damned: Drumpf owns a pen –
a Drumpf Pen, five will get you ten.
Drumpf claims it’s U.S.-made…but, then,
Drumpf lies.

Drumpf lies.
As Drumpf to Mar-a-Lago hies
Drumpf lies.
It’s not enough to Drumpf despise:
Impeachment calls are on the rise.
(Of course, we hope that Drumpf just dies:
The words we long to see…? “Here Lies…
Drumpf’s Lies.”

"King Dump": "Ubu Roi" Reimagined Yet Again

  (More to come; a work in progress.)