- For sake of argument, Thanksgiving 2019
- Trump negotiating terms of imminent resignation
- Pence disqualified from Decorum Restorer
- who's in for GOP 2020 Potus
- Fascinating in omfgistan no one's
- A wild hypothetical, sure!
- Trump leaving in a coffin if he agrees to leave *then*
- that fat Diet Coked-up fuck a walking heart attack/stroke
- I *am* enjoying this more and again I ask why now?
- this shit, roach motel ratcheted to Raid
- I don't beyond where I do and where you aim me please
- but I have not seen anywhere any journalist
- pundit, Twaater Overlord, shitty blogger
- suggest Trump leaves the White House
- unless in a Hearse
- I think exfil trial balloon eyes to permanent infil what do I know
- had Bernie told us about his ticker we'd had held this fart for later
- Hey, Rest in Peace Kim Shattuck I find metaphors
- abound Serendipitiously, best dire pop song
Fourteen stanzas through the brush please mention
I dig this slumping anti-sentence: punctuation
a meter: yards up. Tight and unapologetic promoters
of the agenda - my ratty-down people - tell me
again how you grooved across my brother's face.
My concern is that you may flee rumbling en masse,
burning ship songs, the landing party on fire, stumbling drunk,
tongues flapping like surrender, hair in Albion curls.
Brave little sots, dandy in your bones (they fold like architecture),
do not hope for a minute I would not turret, moat, and knight for you.
I would Harvester and John Deere and Pioneer for you.
I would (if a creek) tadpole all the names I cunning
for you: preordain, prehensile, prepay, prescient, predate.
I cunning for you: mistake, misery, misalign. My people
(larks) I would catfish. I would bass boat. I would cast a fly.