PARTY ON…

(YEAR-In-Review-2018)

Come on in
Your friends are here
The others somewhere over there
In separate rooms
Hear them talking
In rancorous auto-tuned
News-show voices
Some are standing,
Seething,sulking
Defending why they made their choices.

Let me introduce you
To our small salon
This is Pooty and his Blowfish Don
They’ve been colluding forever on
He think he rich says shirtless Pooty
But he my poor little bitch and me his bruty.
He do what I say
Like peel me grape
Or maybe I drop
His pee pee tape.

Let’s get a drink
Have you met
Brett the boofus doofus Knowitall
When it comes to keggin’
He’s the supreme law
And with the girls he can have it all.
So draw us a red cup
Of your favorite cheers
Tits and clits I like beer?
Lest we judge
Please be more doctrinal
Like No means yes
and Yes means anal?

Let’s go in here
The room is oval
With a cabinet full of outlaw mofas.
There’s Kellyanne and Kanye
On the sofa
Giving each other an interracial
Snail slime
Foreskin facials.
And Goopy Gwyneth
Gulping water raw
Thru a stainless steel
3-D printed straw.

Down the stairs in the video room
Bezos plays retro Doom
On a screen that’s split into Sim Cities
Creating a new
Ordering Class
By producing a new Delivery Caste
With ease he teases
Then he squeezes
Supplicant applicant Mayors
On spended knees
Offering their keys
To maximize their subsidies.

Let’s don’t explain just break it down
Deep dive unpack it
Drop it please do not release it,
In the media room
The Music has ceased.
Sara Fucka-factaby’s ranting
Slandering truth in dissonant banter
Splendid “no-comment” candor.

Hey let’s karaoke…
Sing the writing on the Wall
Like a Hairy Harvey MeToo grope
A chorus loudly shouting nope
All together now
We won’t sound shrill
In the ancient city of Margaritaville.

“Nibbling on white bread,
watching what Trump said,
Gonna build a big beautiful wall…
With just his small hands,
Our land is his land,
Just Christians inside
It’ll be the new law.

Wasting away again in Trumpathumpaville,
Lookin’ for my lost Forsaken soul;
Some people say political correctness is to blame,
But I know, it’s Obama’s fault all the same.

Voted in the election, made the wrong selection
All I’ve got is this big red Trump hat
But it couldn’t be finer
Made by a child in China
A perfect fit for the Pizza Rat.

Wastin’ away again in Trumpaputinville
Where he made America Hate again
Some people blame it on Bernie’s cult
But I know….it’s all Hillary’s fault.

The election’s over, we’ll never get sober
From drinking all that xenophobic cheer..
But there’s more where that came from,
More hate and lots more fear
That poison concoction that’s stronger than rum.

Wastin’ away again in Trumpatreasonville
Looking for the next racist insult
Some people say there’s a woman to blame
But I know.. It’s our own damn fault.”

Whoa, look who’s standing
Didn’t think he’d show
Holy Francis
Infallibly commanding
In pure white he dances With Vatican ecclesiastical
Orgiastic red head redemption
While gymnastic Handmaidens tell
All and nail
The perfect landing.

In this room the lawyers come and go
Speaking of what Michael Cohen knows.

Hanging out by the old Back door
Welcome worn
Not needed anymore.
There’s old Sears, née Roebuck
Once an amazon now out of luck.
Voter rights a party Casualty
Come back soon
Net Neutrality.

Romaine a trusted
Old green guest
Who mixed with the best
Eggs, anchovies and Parmesan
But now you’ve caused a Pharma run.
Betrayed so brutally
Like Caesar
In his salad days
His fate to die
Stabbed in the gut
The unkindest cut
etu e-coli?

Upstairs is the playroom
The drama unfolds
Hi Stormy hi Karen and your 23&MeToo sisters
No longer alone
Your history like clones
That didn’t need CRISPR.
Let’s hear you sing your song of scorn
“Stormy” now sung to the old tune of “Sunny” reborn.

Stormy, yesterday my life was filled with me
Stormy, you spanked me but I just wanted to watch you pee
My golden throne is now a cheap one- holer
My Stormy please don’t talk to Robert Mueller
Stormy, once taboo, please don’t sue.

Stormy, thank you for your naughty little spanka
Stormy, you remind me so much of my Ivanka.

Stormy, thank you for my starring role in your movie reel,
Stormy, please don’t talk
Let’s make a deal.
$130,000 for you to say hush
The election was in a week
I was kinda in a rush,
Stormy, one so plush
Please don’t blush.

My life sucked with a new-Born baby Baron
I was so bored with that Playmate Karen
Stormy one so blue, please don’t sue. Stormy rated X,
It was just FAKE SEX.

Down in the basement
Under the flooring
Deplorables are Gathered
Party mood Is Soaring.
Visions of parades With tanks and guns
Better and bigger than Kim Jong Un’s.
The Fatherland’s ready
To throw in the towel
Protect your White Walker Women
From the brown caravan
From Guatemala to the Yucatán
The threat is larger than the Giant Cow.

It’s getting late
This party’s sagging
Something missing
Something lacking
From the weight
Of Rooskies Hacking
They set the bait
And now we’re gagging.

Now outside
The wagon waits
Collecting guests who
Didn’t rage
At border kids in a cage.
We sought the sheriff
But have not caught
The Tariffman
As the one
With the “smocking” gun.

The party’s finished
But the fun continues
Dining, dancing, undiminished
While on the menus
Bloodbaths boil
In churches, schools
We all recoil
Scratch our heads
Thoughts and prayers
For the dead
Police protect us from attack
Unless you’re shot for
Being black.

Outside the gates
Hope dictates
That hate abates
Mass shootings
Scheduled so routine
Emotional Support AR15s
Top The Best Seller List
For American white male terrorists.

So..Bye bye….
Ms American Dream

A long long two years ago
I can still remember how America used to make me smile
And I knew that we had a choice
Between a woman’s and the Devil’s voice
And maybe life would be normal for a while.

But that November made me shiver
Across the map a snake did slither
Fake news gave us PutinTrump
On Democracy they took a real dump.

And later when our nation cried
The children caged he just denied.
Something touched us deep inside
The day America died.
So…..
Bye, bye
Miss American Dream
Rode an Uber in a stupor to the nearest latrine
And good old ICE boys laughin’ at kids who cried
Braggin’this was the day America died
Singing….
This was sure the day that it died..

© 2018 LRudmann

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