Numb. 992 An Upcoming “Tantrump”? (NOT a concession)

Who needs your stupid country?

Who needs your stupid launch codes?

Shaking hands with dirty foreigners?

Who needs to contend with Democrat toads?

Who needs to pretend he cares about people?

Whether they live or they die?

Who needs to live in your stupid old White House?

Who needs to deal with corrupt FBI?

Who needs to golf with pussies like Lindsay?

Who needs meet with bitches like Mitch?

Who needs the whole damn president thing?

Am I not young? And handsome? And rich?

Who needs to daily watch Fox & Friends?

(Isn't the girl getting old?)

Who needs to talk to fatheads like Fauci

who always refuse to do as they're  told?

Who needs to ever consider reality?

Who needs Junior and Eric?

Who, in the end, really needs Melanie?

(When I go to kiss her, she gets hysterical.)

Why would I wish my face on Mt. Rushmore?

(On bills, on stamps, or on coins?)

Why would I want my name on anything?

(In this I include the fruit of my loins.)

What I truly desire is just to retire,

drink warm, flat Coke, read by my fire.

Excellent books like The Art Of The Deal,

my convictions thrown out on Rudy's appeal.

Numb. 991 In Defense Of Donald

OUR president IS NOT a crybaby.

THAT is a damnable lie.

But if you still need to know why …

it's just he IS JUST NOT that sort of a guy.

Donald is stoic. Really heroic.

He DOES NOT know how to complain.

Infectious disease may make the weak sick,

but Donald disdains the idea of pain.

He is a superman, beyond comprehension,

a Universe unto himself,

a being from another dimension. And need I mention

his women and wealth?

Sing ye Hosannas to this Adonis,

this paragon of male virility,

always bestowing blessings upon us,

while demonstrating PERFECT tranquility.

A man for all ages about whom great sages

will write pages and pages of history.

(Forget lost wages and babies in cages.)

Of course he is loved. WHAT IS THE MYSTERY?

Mature. Brainy. Ever so clever.

(Could he be QAnon  … maybe?)

Not the least bit effete, never knowing defeat,

how could anyone claim he's a crybaby!

Numb. 990 Christian Tradition

“Christians” make excuses for Trump.

I find that not at all odd.

This is what, historically speaking,

believers do for their God,

who, they assume, knows more than they do,

although they do not understand

why they must suffer (as life has to),

they accept it as a part of THE PLAN.

Unasked, unanswered: the obvious question,

how any Being Supreme

who could be generous, kind, and benevolent,

could choose to be so incredibly mean?

Human suffering? Okay, yeah sure.

Moral lesson. Love God, endure.

“You'll get to heaven. There with me abide.”

(Meantime “free will” lets you to sin on the side.)

Should we deem this God a louse?

Let us consider the case of the mouse.

Or the sparrow. Each in God's eye.

For what purpose must these suffer and die?

Excluded from heaven for lack of a soul,

their pain and suffering … WHAT IS the goal?

There is no lesson, nothing is learned.

Must we conjecture God loves things to squirm?

That living in terror, forever in fear

is his idea of an ideal career?

That “Christians” love Trump is not at all odd.

The curious thing is why they love God.

Numb. 989 A Man Not Farther From A Child

The problem: Donald is more child than man —

and a mean one at that.

It may be “wrong” … despising a child? …

BUT exceptions are made for exceptional brats

who throw “tan-Trumps”, who mishandle “cats”,

who don “Ghina”-made red #MAGA hats,

who fill all our belfries with Covidy bats,

who shout out loud about coup d'etats

staged by nefarious Deep State Democrats.

Numb. 988 Trump 2024?

The country can NOT divorce me.

It says so in the pre-nup.

Which, along with the NDA,

has everything neatly stitched up.

I always take precautions.

Just in case I get caught

doing something a little illegal.

(And in case the judge can't be bought.)

No rule, regulation, or legislation

can ever control what I do.

And, then, in the end, I can send my friend Rudy — 

Rudy, my man, always ready to

go on TV, make fake accusations,

distracting attention from my fabrications. 

In two-oh-two-four, he'll be my VP —

another dumb-ass as scary than me.