by Rick Young | Dec 18, 2020 | Poem
T’was a long and twisted road,
knowing not what it forebode.
Colbert wept election eve.
Outcome we could not conceive.
Hillary was the wrong choice,
shady past and grating voice.
Still, who thought the Don could win,
light of hair and weak of chin.
When he rode that escalator,
people laughed, said, “See you later.”
Who knew then that this great land
was half desperado band.
Quickly, he put all his cronies
into jobs where they were phonies.
First step, tax cuts for the rich.
Fired anyone who’d snitch.
Nixed good laws and loved dictators.
Border moat with alligators?
Spent three years building a wall
that does us no good at all.
Beat impeachment, thanks to Mitch.
People said he’s Moscow’s bitch.
Embraced those who scream “White Power,”
played golf, moved south from Trump Tower.
Told lies at a record clip.
No truth fell from his heir lip.
Then, when true crisis arose,
he played golf and thumbed his nose.
Half a million here might die
because of his viral lie.
When he lost the big election,
thought Supremes would be protection.
With no concept of the truth,
he now rivals John Wilkes Booth.
Tried to kill democracy,
sold out, sea to shining sea.
Now he claims he will not leave,
’cause the vote he won’t believe.
Streams of fake and fraud all day.
Devil Trump, just go away.
Residents of Mar-a-Lago
want him to live in Chicago.
Maybe he’ll just ride the rail.
On the lam, he could beat jail.
Present hope is we’ll survive
the great wreck of forty-five.
Follow Joe, who knows the score.
Next big test in twenty-four.
by Rick Young | Dec 15, 2020 | Poem
Billy, Barr the door.
He’ll be A.G no more.
Word is that on Christmas eve,
this sly sycophant will leave.
It is said he lost Don’s favor
when the big hoax didn’t savor.
The fraud that Bill couldn’t find
made poor Donnie lose his mind.
As it was all just pretend,
Billy couldn’t hold his end.
Two hard years of kissing ass,
now he’s expelled from the class.
There’ll now be no nth degree
in advanced high trickery.
Figured he’d best hit the trail
before there came talk of jail.
His next job might be construction,
based on his skills at obstruction.
He’d excel, it’s no surprise,
as CEO of telling lies.
Some say he’ll keep out of trouble
hanging out with Barney Rubble.
But a man with his mean skill
hankers, oft, for one more kill.
by Rick Young | Dec 12, 2020 | Poem
Charlie Pride has died
of Covid complications,
first black superstar to play
on country music stations.
Sara Palin took to Georgia,
urging “crush the vote,”
wearing buckskin, in, we hope,
her final fool’s footnote.
L’il Wayne pled guilty
to a federal firearms charge.
Having a gold sidearm
is just part of livin’ large.
Baby Yoda, hottest toy
of this holiday season.
Let him talk Elf off the Shelf,
restore some Jedi reason.
Lastly, BTS named
entertainer of the year.
But do not fret, their Time will pass.
There is nothing to fear.
by Rick Young | Dec 11, 2020 | Poem
A spree of executions in his last months as the king.
As far as hurting people goes, he hasn’t missed a thing.
Even Kim K couldn’t talk him into clemency.
He’s out the door, will try no more for simple decency.
He’s got way too much on his mind to worry about death.
To holding to his legacy, he’ll give his every breath.
He doesn’t want to be a laughing stock amongst dictators.
He’s searching for some device which will vaporize his haters.
If he could just succeed in wrecking our democracy,
he’d become the greatest autocrat in history.
Putin, Kim and Erdogan would bow down to his power.
All the world would be unfurled around his golden tower.
And, when he takes his fall, which will occur before too long,
his crash will be a smash, the greatest comedown since King Kong.
by Rick Young | Dec 4, 2020 | Poem
He’s grifting on his way out the door.
What’s left behind will be a grim eyesore.
He’s pulling up the carpets from the floor.
They’ve let him loose and there will be much more.
He’ll turn the oval office to a fish aquarium,
rent the Lincoln bedroom out as sanitarium.
He’ll sell the oldest silverware, even hock the drapes.
When he gets through, the place will look like Planet of the Apes.
The one thing he’ll pull off, to have his minions deem him cleric,
is switching out expensive art for finger paints by Eric.
