Up stood the Dems' managers,
with cogent wit and argument,
needle and thread and stitching fine,
and offering sips of finest wine
to scholars' nods and citizens' cheers;
it's clear as day the trial is meant.
Trump's lickers levered from benched ass,
brains addled with some outre grass,
and rambling on, would put to sleep
choirs at evensong, snoring deep,
in four part dissonance - and what?
Your tongue sure waggles quite a lot,
but your essay messy, chews the cud;
bugger off; prove silence good.
And when our eyes slide down to sleep
our ears hear little boys,
their juvenile piping wiles paraded:
D minus, E minus, boy downgraded,
sentenced to repeat the crime -
your speech without us, chump, this time -
go face a mirror and speak up,
and hear a yapping, yipping pup.
O Gawd, will this slurry never stop? -
verbal diarrhoea, flop, frap, plop
of speech which issues poisonous sphere
from mouth, hard squeezed by gut,
wrung by fear, shaped by lies, but
wished, by buggery, never to be here.
...........................
