Both these poems were written on February 1, 2017 - a few weeks after Donald Trump was inaugurated. With the biggest crowd ever! Right? Trump our P.T. Barnum. Always the superlative. Always the best. The biggest. Now we are bearing the fruit of our subjection to this venal cheat and conman. As he pushed Sean Spicer run out there to lie about the inauguration crowd, unable to even to properly tie his tie, now he lies and cheats about his performance with the Covid-19 epidemic. Two hundred thousand dead and he's doing a fine job. Sabotaging the post office to suppress the vote-by-mail in the time of Covid. Intending to take away your earned Social Security pension money by cancelling the payroll tax which would fund it for the next 20 years at least. In order to privatize it. People who don't read, believing his outlandish lies. Remember, he did say the coronavirus pandemic was a hoax as the year began and the number of deaths and new cases started mushrooming.
In America Double-Crossed Trump is already foreseen as a madman dictator. As he is who would prefer to be President for life. Rules really not made for him. He just plays to win. Democracy be damned. Morals non-existent in Trump's conscience. Roi d'Or is French for King of Gold.
In the second poem we catch the Thieves steal this and that/Put it under your hat/Stuff your coat/Like a desert packrat
An Anaphylactic Reaction is a severe allergic reaction that sometimes kills the victim, inadvertently eating a trace of a peanut, or shrimp.
