Tuesday, September 17, 2019

day NINE HUNDRED and SEVENTY ONE

Ode to an Asshat

This fabulist of epic proportions,
this misanthropic churl,
this boorish miscreant who speaks
nothing but calumny, jingo, and
self-adulation at the drop of a vermillion chapeau,
this xenophobic boil on the national arse,
this narcissistic tumor with an illegal pompadour,
this inhaler of ill-omened fluorocarbons,
this breeder of disastrous progeny
with vapid consorts while mauling concubines,
having them micturate upon his naked, slug-like form;
on you, I place this curse, this malediction, this anathema
(puts left hand over eyes and forms an arcane mudra
to call forth powerful juju):
Permanent delusional parasitosis.
Look it up, asshat.

--Sam Mills

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