This mother fucking twenty-twenty has its share of shots aplenty.
But no one saw this Ruth thing coming, Democrats despondent, bumming.
Ovid could not have predicted politics so self-afflicted.
Before you can take a breath, Mitch McConnell’s on her death,
singing that we soon shall see our dear king’s next nominee.
Amy Coney Barrett takes the top with no surprises.
A seventh child with seven children, anti-Roe surmises.
Forty-five days we thought would be most excruciating
now loom as a forward zoom toward future carbon dating.