Drumpf Speaks To His Base Introducing His Latest Drumpf-Branded Product, DrumpfEar©, Following 7.13.24; Or, "For...More...Ears!!"

"Achtung, you MAGAmugs! I fear 
I've gain'd a vote but lost an ear.
Friends, countrymen: do lend me yours!
Mine's bloody...plus, I've shat my draw'rs.

     But buy my DrumpfEar©, made of plastic.

Tack it to your own with mastic.

Pink 'n' tone-deaf -- just  like mine -- 

it's yours...for $90.99."

"I'm now crown'd King of Kinky Ears:

Van Gogh, Colbert... that pair are peers,

though I alone raise up my fist.

(Of fisting folk, I top the list.)

     But buy my DrumpfEar©. But you must.

'Twill tell your world 'In Drumpf We Trust.'

It comes in sizes S, M, B(igly).

Big-eared be, like Uncle Wiggley."

"Right-wing ties...? Too red, too long.

Melania says the look's all wrong.

I say true MAGAns wear red ties.

(All do do, who believe my lies.)

     But, meanwhile, buy my DrumpfEar©, do!

(Who's truely true to  Drumpf buys two.)

I want your loot. Plus, chew on this: 

my next assassin might not miss.

Stakeout At Chez Gardener: Homage; Or, I Then Drew You This Picture: An Apologial Sketchbook

          Metamelos

 

     Here's logg'd three dogg'rel stiches, all burlesquing lines by Carroll

     in the hopes of launching loads of laughs -- at minimum, a barrel.

     To diss 'em you're entitled; you dismiss 'em at your peril.

          Stiches

I mark'd a crescent moon, that segment sewn on Muslim flags. 

I then drew you this picture, like those shown in Turkish mags. 

Your comment...? Brash: "Who pens such trash be nowt but scalawags." 

I gazed on Joe; he's six-foot-fo' but elsewise like ourselves. 

I then drew you this picture which into his essence delves. 

But you, like H.V.D. before you, moo'd, "More bleedin' elves...?" 

     *Hugo Dyson, Tolkien's fellow Inkling, on hearing that man's 

reading of his Ring Trilogy's latest installment, famously remarked,

""F**k! Not another elf!"

I found a shrivell'd foreskin (a memento from some bris...?).

I then drew you this picture. (Note the dehydrated jizz.)

Can I be sure you really have no clues to whose it is...?

I ran across a mood ring. (How shall stay a mystery.)

I then drew you this picture -- true to life, as well you see.

Your attitude...? Your routine mood. (You're such an s.o.b.*)

     *"Spawn of a bitch' allows for gender-neutral slander. 

I stumbled on a lava lamp at St. Jude's jumble sale.

I then drew you this picture at a seven-thirteenths scale.    

(You never liked St. Jude's -- how all the price tags were in Braille.)

I spied a Bible planted in our fam'ly's chiffarobe.

I then drew you this picture. 'Fess up! Who's the credophobe...?

Your out-of-order answer...? Some misquoted verse from Job.

I broke two Xmas bubble lights bequeathed to us by Mom. 

I then drew you this picture of their fragments in my palm. 

If I have warn'd you once, I've done a thousand times: Stay calm!

 

I ate three Brit-baked sausage rolls, each stuff'd with mince of pheasant.

I then drew you this picture: "Happy birthday! Here's your present."

Your feedback, once you'd eyed it, proved remarkably unpleasant.

I read a line of Lewis's where's mention'd railway shares.

I then drew you this picture showing half a dozen pairs. 

You cannot know how struck I was when you remark'd, "Who cares!" 

 

I eyed a damaged emu egg, one smuggl'd from its nest.

I then drew you this picture which such sightings would attest.

I'd fail'd to realize my sketch would leave you so distress'd.

I then saw...who...? (So: was it you...? The shaver gave no name.)

Whereon I drew this picture -- though as yet it lacks a frame.

But you'd agree: whate'er I see, your come-back's e'er the same...?

One Fine Day At Texas Tex's Textile Tavern

     In one 

West-Texas town 

sits a textile-themed tap

     stuff'd with 

crepes, cottons, calicos, 

cashmeres with nap.

     A 

priest and a minister 

enter that bar;

     therein

join'd by a rabbi 

these holy men are.

     "All di-

vines, vicars, padres, 

imams, monks in robes..."

     tallies

Tex, "...welcome be. Fear not 

State's moral probes!

     "Textile 

Tavern embraces 

all men of the cloth --

     all...re-

gardless of credo. 

(Unless you're a moth.)"

Selfie Sketchbook: Terrorism Takes A Pair Of Poses

The Domestic Terrorism Cellfie 

     Pose One

 

We're white, supreme...the Master Race,

'n' foreign-born but fer God's grace.

Ya'll girlie girls best learn yer place.

(Does tinfoil headgear spoil my face....?)

   We're proud. We're loud. We're MAGA's base.

We march the Mall, spray ya'll with mace...

though White House docs Drumpf does misplace

'n' tyrants' rants Drumpf does embrace.

(My cap is made of foil 'n' lace.)

   We synagogues 'n' mosques deface. 

Us dudes das Juden won't replace.

That Holocaust did not take place.

(My tinfoil hat glean'd that from space.) 

     Pose Two

 

   To Pence 'n' Nancy we give chase.

We'd hang 'em both to make our case

for burnin' down this frickin' place.

(My tinfoil tam scans scams from space.)

   While climate change will us outpace,

asylum seekin' we'll erase.

Our cons to Don will throw each race. 

With Dems we'll never interface.

(My hat of tin tunes din to space.)

   Of shame we show no hint nor trace. 

We'll not stand down; we'll not lose face. 

(My tin-foil cap maps raps from space. 

We pack AK-s, though, just in case.)

Selfie Sketchbook: Peter...

 

Pete Pumpkineater's Pumpkin Shellfie

Our Peter a dilemma's got:

his strife 'n' trouble* nags...a lot.

(Plus, who's that squash what crash'd Pete's shot...?)

     *'Trouble-'n'-strife' is 

Cockney rhyming slang for 'wife.'

Selfie Sketchbook: Bethle'm...

The Bethle'm Boychik's First Noëlfie

A swaddl'd Savior squats in straw

and Virgin Mary's womb's still raw,

while Joseph muses, "Who's his Paw...?" 

Selfie Sketchbook: Southerm...

The Dixie Lost Cause Rebel Yellfie

"Uncle!" mutters Robert E.

while Sherman utters, "To the sea!"

and Johnny stutters, "Yee-haw-yee-e-e-ee!" 

Selfie Sketchbook: Rossini...

 

The G. Rossini's William Tellfie

Pomme-topp'd Junior bears his task.
Kemo sabe wears a mask.

(Where his sidekick stares...? Don't ask.)

A Shelfful O' Selfies

The Shallow Continental Shelffie 

The Papal-States-Supporting Guelphie
The "We All Live In Rivendell"fie

The Jacques Brel Is Alive 'N' Wellfie
The Fennel Farmers In The Dellfie

The Dreamt In Marble Halls We'd Dwellfie

The Me 'N' Stupid (With Adele)fie
The Broadway's Katherine Cornellfie

The Doe-Eyed Soemmerring's Gazellefie 

The "Flag Pin Pinn'd On My Lapel"fie 
The Donald Wins A Fake Nobelfie

     (images and rhyming triplets to come: 

a work in progress)

Selfie Sketchbook: Cocteau...

 

The Jean Cocteau "Le Bête e' Bellefie"

Jean remarks, "We're not alone."

Josette barks, "Bête's done ete my phone."

(Marais's performance...? Overblown.)

One Fine Day In A Forest Outside Camelot

   

   

You and the night and the music...? No! 
Ewen the Knight tann'd the moose...? Sick!!