Jihad Donald Trump Style

• Posted by: matthew harris
• Created: February 8, 2017
• 0

The glory of America, now heats up
with agitation poised to strike on the brink
sans legislation incites humiliation,
which goads desecration as fete accompli chink
in armor of Democratic rubric, constituting capitalistic
ethic, generic iconoclastic, and jingoistic logic,
nor budging an inch when mandating masses swallow his drink
what huff huck – this belligerent, dominant and
fervent hell raiser doth bungle in the jungle
decreeing tacit Mar shall law fast as a shutterfly eyewink
as his cosmic crotch grab doth put Venus under his sway
with his Mercury hill temperament
pitches the orbit of planet Earth tubby comb out of balance
infected by hiz anti Ju pit er damnations, excoriations, fulminations
Huzzah sing how whiz derriere didst Sat urn simultaneously
crushing crucible as an Uranus
indiscriminately plop ping two hundred fifty pounds off flesh
dub ling down humming his favorite Neptune
that dost affect Pluto hoc crass sea
repeating a self coined motto –
I yam all mighty, therefore no fink
simply commandeering the reins of control,
a one man military intelligence groupthink 
hut triad and true dyed in the wool rip pug in ant guise zing rogue
rejoicing tuff fool, governing and hoodwink
king the die hard fans of dictatorial, linkedin and monarchist ink
cube bus thriving on wielding indomitable aggression
practiced in the Art of the (Deceptive) Deal
incorporating an unanticipated jink
iron fist rule reigning down vis a vis
pro pens heave lee and prop hen city
flashing hiz seal of approval, which scribbled signature
doth not smooth monkey serve hay puzzling kink
boot his frenzy to bulldoze catastrophic, formulaic, and illogic
spells these United States of America twill become hell
in a hand basket with nary a trace of the grit of link
kin, the sixteenth president (whose ruggedly pioneering frontier existence
found him steady and strong, plus soft hearted as pelt o’ mink
the epitomy of this forty fifth elected commander in mischievous 
a twenty first century Drake yule ha – albeit nink
con poop – barely describes this oafish piranha making waves
(Whereby Hurricane Katrina seems like child’s play),
where even a toddler, could out rule, out smart, and out think
thee maniac pampered by don patriarch Fred, who fawned, doted
and bow wowed over this magnate trick son, whose rapacious,
reprehensible and riling actions generated when Melanie doth wink.

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