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Jim Hayes Poem
Out of the night a black vice POTUS,
a cry of hope from poll to poll-
wrapped in our flag we know they loath us
and our unconscionable goal.
In the fell clutch of discrimination
we hear them wince and cry aloud.
Within our bludgeoning, christian nation
their heads are bloody, ja, und cowed.
Let them sulk in their vale of tears
We’ll never let them turn the page.
No prospect of getting four more years
finds ,and shall find us howl with rage.
Again we’ll make our country great,
what matter we lose our nation’s soul?
He is the master of our fate—
wir gibt unser Fuhrer ganz kontrol.
Copyright © Jim Hayes | Year Posted 2023
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Jim Hayes Poem
Milania, Milania
Milania, Milania, our journey’s nearly done,
We fudged the facts, paid little tax, the prize is almost won,
The polls I hear are tied —‘tho clear that most folk are disgusted.
With hollow eyes they realise I’m crude and can’t be trusted
In deed, O heart! heart! heart!
those lipstick marks are red—
They stain my shirt!—Milania’s words
Are fallen cold and dead
Milania, Milania get up and hear the bells
‘Tis but for you my fling is flung— not Stormy Daniels,
Your haute couture—a sinecure —we’ve been through this before,
A little hicky on my ass and you’d walk out the door?
Milania, Milania,
She was just a little hussy
‘Tis just your dream that on the deck
I grabbed her by the pussy
Milania does not answer tho’ I grovel at her foot
My lady neither holds my hand so I just pats her butt
At my inauguration there is just myself to thank,
‘Tho I would mention too my crew had most not walked the plank.
Shout O shores,and ring O bells!
Hark, —potentially a gremlin—
someone, I ween, that I must thank
exulting in the Kremlin.
Copyright © Jim Hayes | Year Posted 2023
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