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