by Rick Young | Oct 31, 2020 | Poem
Trump will dress as Mussolini.
It’s his favorite look.
He could throw the world a loop
by dressing as a book.
The only book he owns, however,
is “Art Of The Deal.”
And that one wasn’t really ‘great.’
He skimmed the book piecemeal.
He pondered dressing as Sean Connery
looked in Robin Hood,
but realized the Sherwood tights
on him won’t not look good.
And so it is Benito
that’s his costume for the night.
Lumped out there on the balcony,
he knows he’ll look just right.
He’ll fill his bag with candy
from his working staff and aides.
Then to the oval office,
where he’ll check for razor blades.
by Rick Young | Oct 28, 2020 | Poem
Barrett and Barr were riding in a car,
chatting on the things that really matter.
As they drove, one didn’t have to travel very far
to realize this wasn’t idle chatter.
“First we’ll kill their health care,” Barr remarked,
joy unconcealed, “and then we’ll up the sick count
with our spreaders. ”
Destination reached, they quickly pulled aside and parked.
“Good thing,” he said, “Trump likes his doubleheaders.”
“Then take away abortion,” she sang out with unchecked glee,
“and get these fetus killers back in line.
Pretty soon everyone can have seven kids like me.
But, oh, how will we feed them, they will whine.”
“That’s great,” Barr chuckled heartily, “and what about gay rights?”
“We’ll end their same-sex marriage,” she rejoined.
“I haven’t had this much fun since those west coast protests nights,”
Barr chortled, “All their rights will be purloined.”
They pulled away at last and spoke of curtailing free speech,
and making masks illegal due to crime.
When talking of the clampdown, there was nothing out of reach.
“The oligarchy’s here. This is the time.”
by Rick Young | Oct 27, 2020 | Poem
Last days of les fleurs du mal.
Waiting now on the cabal
to reject all kinds of voting,
iced with their condensed fraud coating.
They’ll inject a dose of panic,
and the king, at his most manic,
will dip into his trick trough,
screaming the election’s off.
There is no need for re-do.
Four more years of you-know-who.
Forget people’s voting rights.
His are set on higher heights.
With the help of comrade Barr,
he’ll become a U.S. Tsar.
Combining his nukes with Putin.
how long until they start shootin’?
Sights set on world domination,
every rule and need forsaken,
World War three might last three days,
spawn a radiation haze.
In their deep survival bunker,
Putin and the king will hunker.
Having stroked our deepest fears,
They may have to hide for years.
by Rick Young | Oct 27, 2020 | Poem
Our new flag celebrates the thin blue line.
The old red, white and blue has seen its time.
Enough of unity and peace.
It’s time we celebrate the police,
and get tough on the leftists and their crime.
And now it’s best that we replace the eagle.
It represented truth and all that’s legal.
But that’s not our new culture.
Much better is the vulture.
Makes for faster cleanup, though not regal.
And, lastly, our old anthem has to go.
For many years, it put on a good show.
But it’s not of its day.
Unlike “YMCA.”
Which, at least, has words which you might know.
by Rick Young | Oct 24, 2020 | Poem
Trump’s great plans for harmony
around the middle east
have just been put to test by
the Ethiopian beast.
Their huge hydropower dam,
upstream on the Blue Nile,
will block the flow to two countries
downstream in a short while.
Trump, of course, looked deep
into his magic tea leaves cup,
and said, no joke, that Egypt
will just have to blow it up.
That damned dam is ruining
his peace plans with Sudan.
And to save negotiations,
he’ll do all he can.
Maybe he’ll send Seals
to help out with the detonation.
That’s if any survived
“fake” Bin Lad assassination.
Israel-Sudan engagement’s
top priority.
And blowing up the dam would please
his new close friend, Bibi.
So, Egypt, use your great explosives.
Liberate the river.
Damn the Ethiopians.
Make their timbers shiver.
