Yesterday I had a real bad ouchie

And dreamt that I should call Dr. Faucci.

When I awoke, I couldn’t find his number

Then I fell into a troubled slumber

Where he morphed into a Zeus-Ian Pitt

Brandishing his bright scepter of knowledge

Mixing compassion with a brilliant wit

I wish they had taught Trump at college.

But they didn’t or he refused to learn.

Since Daddy footed for all of his bills

He did not ever have to anything earn

Surrounding himself with a bunch of shills.

I woke up chilled but in a pool of sweat.

Haven’t we shelved this shell of a man yet?

8 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Only Connect

The smell of onions on my forefinger, Faint, yet as strong as the cord uniting Mother with child, severed upon entrance Into this world, disconnecting us From the spiritual source of matter, Conjures

A Breath of Air

Imagine if our current President Took something immaterial for a change Like a retreat To a Buddhist boot camp Where he could not talk, Could not access electronics, Or anything Hollywood, Could not t

Quite Bluntly

I saw his visage reflected in rear view as he drove driving a chill over my entire being. His face was my own, the hair, cheekbones, eyes exactly the same but his alone as another image mirrored, meld