Pardon My Swamp

Trump’s pardon of Flynn today
followed the pardon of a turkey.
They say the next one up in line’s
the Notorious Beef Jerky.
Then liberate some KFC,
and Popeye’s chicken, Ooh-ooh-wee.
Then let’s get donuts out of jail
and pay Ronald MacDonald’s bail.
We’ll spring the Hardee’s/Arby’s gang,
and end the pardons with a bang.
And, so, make room in that clown car
for legendary Billy Barr.
Not the Kid, but just as vicious,
his crime trail no less pernicious.
In the Orange Gang’s crime ring,
he would rank with Burger King.
Word is Trump might even pardon
salad bars at Olive Garden.
Here is something seldom said:
this swamp is very well fed.

American Gourd Society

“When the gourds are gone…”
is when the swords are drawn.
But when there’s gourds aplenty,
we think of twenty-twenty.
We’ve had our share of gourds with bumps,
elongated humpty humps,
gourds with stripes and pumpkins blue,
twisted gourds from Bonzai Two.
“No more gourds,” we scream to God.
“They’re morphing into something odd.”
Arisen in the street, new Lords,
dogma spouting Christian gourds.
“You’ll not squash us any more!
We’re not the gourds we were before.”