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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Strong suspicion a 2024 presidential win... for the trumpeting don spells loss for democracy after inauguration day witnesses his swearing-in nepotism will run rampant lawlessness the name of the game of thrones breaking apart ramparts of inalienable rightful freedoms rent sunder, whereby nothin can stop formidable has-been former forty fifth commander in chief to wreak havoc giving boogeymen run for his money. I cannot vote for that coiffed ogre - tough luck such as imprisonment doled out to "losers" - dragging them by scruff of their neck delegating his henchmen charged analogous to applying assault, battery and rape ever ready and rough each likened as assigned kapo spewing ala blow torch dragon puffing out following remaining poetic lines dashed off in a huff - based on the scary political fracas - that a looming presidential nightmare doth not become reality show - apprenticing "Three Billy Goats Gruff" (Norwegian: De tre bukkene Bruse), a Norwegian fairy tale collected by Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe in their Norske Folkeeventyr, first published between 1841 and 1844 requiring dye hard adherents to fluff up their orange hair and douse body courtesy sunlamps or other tanning equipment to affect getting more than enough emitted rays of ultraviolet (UV) radiation (courtesy booth installed in every congressional seat) sycophants forever believing unhealthy glow (viz Rudolph) never enough while spending taxpayers money sitting on her/his respective duff meanwhile United States in general, and Washington District of Columbia in particular (the epitome western civilization) exemplifying City on a Hill, a phrase derived from the teaching of salt and light in Jesus's Sermon on the Mount incorporated in political rhetoric in United States politics that of a declaration of American exceptionalism to refer to America acting as a "beacon of hope" for the world, when suddenly such grandeur precariously perched atop figurative bluff. Airing thoughts - no matter aye ham juiced one twenty first century piddling, noodling, and muddling ape poetic license serves as genuine esse cape to fly (during pitch black hours of night) on his witch a ma call it... to escape temporarily the cares and concerns of an uncertain world, where as an outlier from the madding crowd I gape at forecasting sheer insanity, where vetted trumpeting drag queens dolled up as pansexual strumpets while they seductively eat crumpets soulfully bellow chilling hate innate prejudice and senselessness purr blind faith toward self avowed demigod – seize whore viz Cesar wind blown kickstarting mobs stir twittering paypal purchased Monty Python's Flying Circus pretenders smelling of musk crowdsourcing Amazon sized nasty and brutish bodyguards to evict ruckus-causing murmur oh...how the controlling fiends will let this country go to hell in handbasket, and rack up stratospheric global debt cause zing at least one measly mortal male to fret totalitarian rule will force every man, woman and child to march....het two...three...four, while the billionaire turns a third blind eye speeds away in his foo fighter jet argh...heavens to Betsy, how did fickle finger of fate let pompous ass vacuum up majority votes across world wide net to finagle vox populi, and groom hooligan nasty ruffian thugs delivering smashed face upon those deemed peevish pet Long story short - pondering my rental circumstance will be upended if this ret chad, evil, googly-eyed, gastronomic, narcissistic bullish don will set the spark for world war three - unless....Katrina and the Waves, superman or the Sabrina can oust him yet.
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