Tuesday, August 18, 2020

Commedia dell'politicus

 

image from timelife.com


Commedia dell’politicus


“Trump is Trump. Some people find him hilarious.

I don’t, but there’s never been a dull moment

since he took office.”--Martin Short.


There’s only one clown

who comes to mind,

a slimy evil sonofabitch,

who makes King’s Pennywise

seem like an amateur,

smirking while munching

Ronald’s Big Mac

as more than 170,000

people perished;

with his silly pumpkin make-up,

and the stupid white mask

around his little red eyes,

his poorly dyed and combed-over

sprayed-on Jerry Lee Lewis coiffe,

his trembling puckered porky lips

midst a pair of bull dog jowls,

his red tie so long he trips on it

and uses it for a napkin, wiping

off chicken grease and secret sauce,

his thousand dollar suits that were

made in China, that hang on his

rotundness like a blue tarp,

with his tiny hands gesturing and

pointing, flailing like clipped pigeon wings,

his fifth grade oratory skills,

coupled with his third grade vocabulary,

his vulgarity and gutterspeak insults

that would make George Carlin blush,

his illusions of grandeur, actually believing

he is the Chosen one, a deity, even though

he’s an atheist, nihilist, a fraud, a failure,

a perpetual lying machine, 

a forlorn future footnote in history,

a simpleton, a moron, who has obviously

made a deal with the devil at the crossroads,

and now his term is up, and he is terrified

of facing up to his demonic obligations,

all those broken laws,

all those prison sex nightmares,

all that angry horde of women he’s raped & wronged,

all those teeth-clenching folks

that he has defrauded,

                   cheated,

                   conned,

                   hoodwinked,

                   robbed,

                   deceived &

                   duped;

finding himself to be the rodeo clown

whose stumbled and must now

face the horns;

and most of all

he must face the millions

of families who have had loved ones

become infected, and who died

needlessly on his watch,

from his gross neglect,

ignorance and greed.



Glenn Buttkus


Posted over at d'Verse Poets Pub

9 comments:

JadeLi said...

Glenn, I would have been so disappointed if you HADN'T written about Donny. I think you have captured the essence of that beast so well that your description could be a lead-lined vault to park his carcass in to weld shut and shoot off towards the sun, where it can fry and sizzle him like a piece of rancid pork fat. The picture you used will haunt me with Bjorn's and Rob's clowns tonight...

robkistner said...

Love the pic brother, and savored the writing — POW! FUCK TRUMP!!

brudberg said...

I fear that he will manage to make things much worse unless he is utterly defeated in a way it can never ever be challenged...

Kim M. Russell said...

That is an astonishing image that you chose to illustrate your poem, Glenn! Of course you had to write about Donny and yes, he does make King’s Pennywise seem like an amateur. I’d forgotten that Trump likes Big Macs – he’s probably constantly ‘high’ on the chemicals and drugs he’s ingested through them! And he does smirk, all the time, so sinister. You’ve described him so well with his pumpkin make-up and ‘the stupid white mask around his little red eyes’ that I’m glad I’m reading this in the morning, otherwise it would give me nightmares. I couldn’t help giggling in agreement with the ‘fifth grade oratory skills, coupled with his third grade vocabulary’. I pray he gets his just desserts.

Ken Gierke said...

On the money, all of this.

Linda Lee Lyberg said...

Perfect Glenn, but why don't you tell us how you REALLY feel? LOL- As usual such an apt description of the monster.

Christine said...

Scary enough, but you have hit the nail on the head and pinpointed what is going on in this country right now. I wish more people would admit that he is a nightmare. I don't understand how anyone in their right mind can think that he is doing a good job.

Misky said...

I absolutely, completely detest that man and his little oooooooo puckered up lips. He's a rotting-seaweed-stench.

A Reading Writer said...

Darn that photo! This piece is beyond what i was expecting from you. You nailed it. Every single line.