The Donald Mussolini
Whipped out his little weenie
And grabbed himself some pussy 'cause he could.
His worshippers forgave him,
And claimed that Christ would save him
So he could make more money. Rich men should.
He posed for pictures sneering
To sounds of raucous cheering
By those who love him looking down his nose
At those he labels “losers,”
The “winners”: their abusers,
On whose behalf he gives us all the hose.
He feeds on adulation
And represents a nation
With pampered demographics in decline:
Those types who find it galling
That they should now fear falling
Out of their class – for they are next in line.
And so their anger festers
Abetted by court jesters:
Republicans and Democrats by name
Whose culture-war distractions
Reveal two right-wing factions:
One bought, one rented. “Different” but the same.
Michael Murry, "The Misfortune Teller," Copyright © 2019