Saturday in Magadonia
Saturday
in Magadonia
The red hat doesn’t quite cover
The thinning strands:
Evidence of a failing virility
He attempts to reclaim
With misspelled invective
And preposterous concoctions too dear.
His device promises a future
Free of all the wrong types,
But the rainbows will not let him be.
Blue and yellow flags proliferate,
Hillary smiles smugly
And damning tapes appear
To end the crime family
Only to blow away like smoke.
Pillow-men make claims
Promising evidence
They never have.
He salves the wounds with pictures
That make claims he hasn’t written,
That prove something
Not entirely clear:
Petty poisons.
He accesses his account for the rage fix,
An entertainment not allowed in public,
Because being an asshole is frowned upon;
Proof that they are the fascists.
He is confronted with posts
Unaddressed to him,
Yet assault him with facts.
His idol, a man of some few missteps,
Must now meet consequences
Unfairly applied to demi-gods.
He must correct such absolute accuracy!
He readies his arguments
And assails his enemy with force:
“SOY BOY!”, he types, “LIBTARD!”
He finds an offensive picture,
And posts it as hard as he can:
A successful attack!
And before the inevitable cohesive reply,
He blocks another account,
And counts another win,
Secure in the knowledge,
That Jesus loves him.
He scours the social
In search of other libs to defeat
To build up the anger required
To teach his woman and children
The lessons they never learn.
This is the life…
Cliff Lake 6/17/2023
Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023
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