by Rick Young | May 19, 2020 | Poem
This president’s a rascal,
a lot like Eddie Haskell;
he certainly has Beaver on the brain.
He’s taking medicine unproved,
behavior surely not behooved.
It’s further proof the man has gone insane.
The drug is for malaria,
and now he’s caused hysteria.
The public bought his bleach tips the last time.
Hydroxychloroquine is now seen as a win.
If people die, his advice is a crime.
Some say he’s dumb as a rock,
but he probably has stock
in the company that makes this drug.
If it turns into disaster,
you won’t see a person faster,
sweeping evidence under the rug.
Some say perhaps he is lying,
totally unfazed by dying,
as long as he lives to rule the world.
He is like a dragon hiding,
when the people do his biding.
If not, watch his vicious wings unfurled.
by Rick Young | May 17, 2020 | Poem
The White House staff is wearing masks.
They’ll do whatever the boss asks.
He, of course, will still wear none.
Must remain the ‘chosen one.’
Even Jared, Kernel Kush,
must obey the face mask push.
Bill Barr wears the only one he owns.
It’s emblazoned with a skull and bones.
Ivanka sports a decorator line.
It encourages “Just Die, Don’t Whine.”
Kellyanne’s shows a dead cupid,
printed below: “I’m With Stupid.”
One man’s mask says “Don’t Blame Me!”
He’s our hero: Doc Fauci.
by Rick Young | May 16, 2020 | Story
Another watchdog had to go.
He sniffed around Mike Pompeo.
Big Pharma will make our vaccine.
The king is dead. God save the queen.
Pelosi got her aid bill passed.
Tomorrow morning, she’ll be gassed.
Grocery prices on the rise.
Next year, this time: Catsup Surprise!
Space Force has a brand new flag,
“super duper missile” tag.
JCPenney goes asunder.
How’d it stay so long’s the wonder.
Bag pollution’s back in style.
Eco just walked the green mile.
All rules off, all laws contested.
B. Hussein must be arrested.
Lock ’em up or kill ’em all.
Twenty-twenty on the wall.
by Rick Young | May 15, 2020 | Poem
It’s hurricane season and things could get pretty wet.
The felt tip forecaster pronounced Kansas a good bet.
It’s hit the beaches season and soon they’ll be overrun.
Despite the social warnings, some will, sadly, become chum.
It’s sharks amongst us season and, so, when you see a fin,
swim your ass toward safer shores, ’cause you ain’t gonna win.
It’s go to deadly work now season, first we’ve ever seen.
Does this all end up with marches? Or was that a dream?
by Rick Young | May 13, 2020 | Poetry
William Barr’s a tool of the game Monopoly.
He’s become the reigning king of “Get Out of Jail Free.”
He’s destroyed the last vestige of our democracy.
Law’s a joke. Order’s bespoke. There’s no land of the free.
In Canada, this would be a game misconduct penalty.
O, Canada, again to you we’ll flee,
just like we did in a low point in history.
That’s not to infer Vietnam was all that tragic.
Trump broke their death record.
It just disappeared like magic.
William Barr has gone too far, but that has been his way.
Unmitigated tool he’s been since his appointment day.
Now he’s assembled the A Team of released guilty crooks,
who all can work with Russia to cook the election books.
We’re all doomed. The world’s mushroomed. Just hang us out on hooks.
O, Jesus, how did you not know the devil had come back?
How did you miss the anguished cries of those stretched on the rack?
A brazen white dictator builds a crazed symbolic wall
to divide those who will live from those who have to fall.
If you can’t step in here, man, then good God save us all.
