The crooked lump is filled with lies,
a crooked schmuck in prez guise.

The crooked chump
is no more than a whore
who hangs with a turd cadre.
He’s got the “best words.”
Can’t we chase this pest away?

Surrounded by an ahole crew—
stealing, cheating they do.
Till they’re gone, we’re fated,
slated to see boo-boos
and listen to doo-doo.

He’s got a crooked slut…
makes his heart race
Her nook, his like-to-be place.
“Baby, be mine tonight!”

He’d like to put his part
in a space that’s tight, yet squish.
He’d love in her his prow…
she stops at deep tongue kiss.

She’s part of the family troll crew,
causing harm to me, you.
So wrong and vile-rated.
Greatness is not in view;
clowns in an unsound crew.

Day that they go,
day that they go,
champagne will flow.

That day will be the start of
goodbye to all their sh*t.
They’ve brought the country down—
we’ll need years to dig out of this pit.

I can hardly wait till this crew
gets the karma that’s due:
them incarcerated,
mated with “roomies” who
they screwed and know
that they’re the foe…
act apropos.