'One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star'- Nietzsche
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Donald J. Trump

Meet Joe Black

by John Kendall Hawkins

 

Today lookin’ like Death warmed over

Foolish as Brad Pitt just sayin’

arrivederci

His jiffy do gone

Replaced with a ‘fro

He recounts how he done Corn Pop

A bad dude needing welfare reform

Poolside all those white years ago

When push came to shove

Back in days he was good buds

With folk who exchanged

strange fruit trading cards

And called each other Bubba

 

 

Meet Joe Black

The great white hope now

Up ‘gainst that colored harlequin

In the white house

If only Joe hadn’t Coleman Silked

A human stain in his pants

A mea culpa spook

Rattling his closeted skeletons

Just a dog-faced lying pony soldier

Too small to fail

Like a shape-shifting monster virus

Politician one step below molester,

As Woody Allen would say

(Underwear have term limits

Why not politicians: take a memo:

Compare track records, and skid rows)

And the only thing is

biden Joe did wrong

Is he done went ‘head and stayed

in Mississippi a day too long,

As Bobby Dylan would say.

 

 

Meet Joe White

Sloppy slap happy Joe

We done scraped da bottom da barrel

American Vegemite

(And the Aussies don’t even know)

superduper did another roperdoper

Up against the wall, he dropped the quine

Like hippies dropped El Cid to change their minds

And yesterday someone compared trump to hitler

who when his vases were panned

(apparently, it’s not so cool

if a rose is not a rose is not a rose)

ripped apart his brushes in a

Mein kampf  kristallnacht bulldozer rage

Dancing like sugar plumbed fairies in his head

And painted them under his nose

And then good germans showed up, unopposed

Buttrump

We’re talking vases of finger flowers in bloom

Nuremberg, Leni W. as Shalott at the history loom

And Richie Rich broken bad

shirty brownnosers sieg heiling

Henry Kissinger American Express

Is that really an image we want?

Don’t leave home without it

because there’s a virus

 

Meet the Two Joes

States of red and blue

rock em sock em robo-pols

one flew east one flew west

And someone each of them knew

flew to New York to invest

Wall Street rallies don’t need

Triumphs of the will

Democracy will do

The red pill or the blue bill

choose your poison, flagly

(Socrates said fuck it give me the hemlock)

Well, someone said, maybe Elvirus,

that it ain’t over til

the morbidly obese fat fuck sings

And this could end falsetto

A quarantino ending for the ages

We all fall down

Inglorious basterds (sic, real sic)

Watching our dreams go up in flames

 

Let’s see what the mourning brings