Wednesday, April 10, 2019

№ 570.1 EXTRA!: Judge not, Lester B. Judge (a Trump mission statement – or something)


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I don't care you're a judge.
What I say is the law
IS THE LAW.
Nothing you say/do can ever budge me
from my conviction – that might be the wrong word –
that I, though my speech may, at times, sound slurred,
am the one man who knows every watchword
as to how the world works, what countries are turds,
how to get all of my debts (and draft) deferred,
how to avoid any penalties that I've incurred,
how to coerce every woman I've ever preferred,
how to live life complete, undeterred
by decency, honesty or any morality,
principle, religion, but not bestiality –
my business is, as you know, hospitality.
I am the whole package, the total totality.
I may be flawed, but I am a god
like Cæsar or Nero or, my favorite, Caligula –
two hoots for wee boots, three cheers for the figure he
cut in old Rome. (My kind of place, I'd be at home.)
And if you think I'm now prone to temper,
then just you wait until I am Emperor.
FAKE NEWS anchors and late night hosts
will be gladiators or tied to posts
where they'll be attacked by lions and bears.
We'll see how they scream when they get theirs.
All this will be broadcast on FOX TV
sponsored by my friends, Koch Bros. Industries.
Those who survive this kind of toil,
them I will boil in the crudest crude oil
at rallies or dipped in turpentine
they'll be chopped up by wind turbines
or roasted in furnaces fired by coal
which will help reach my energy goal.
Population solution is more pollution,
just like it says in the Constitution.
Which, if I may brag,
I sometimes love
even more than the flag
which one of those days
after I shred it
I may regret
that I never read it.