Stay home, young man, and read a Book

It’s mocking and political,

this tale I have to tell,

about a Jan 6 rioter

they’d pardoned out of jail.

He found his dog had left him,

despite vows otherwise,

for a lovely family

unsmirched by shady ties.

He couldn’t meet the rent

and they’d deported Auntie Bess.

Where the gal’d been sent

was anybody’s guess.

He found his student loan bills

growing in arrears.

They’d taken down the windmills

just to prompt liberal tears.

It’s got to be that a man

can’t even buy toys!

Just a concept of a plan

for those good girls and boys.

 

He thought...

If the Orange Jesus only knew

the travesties his minions do!

 

He put on his walking shoes

and loaded up his knapsack too.

 

Now, there’s a ranch

resplendent in gold,

where the president tweets

crap he’s been told.

A mishmash he views

of ads and fibs.

He watched that fake news

and got it all mixed-

 

“Everyone smart

says he’s the best!

He’s Head and Shoulders

above the rest.

How dare they unmask

murderous thugs?

Scrub Force is for

upholstery and rugs!

MAGA caps sell

for a limited time!

Pre-Treat repels

soil and grime!”

 

He slurped that sham news

and his psyche heaved.

He became his own dupe

and he truly believed

 

that there were teeny anti-fascists

in his toupe.

 

Let’s just call him Clueless

was near halfway there

when he heard that POTUS

found things in his hair.

With Tegrin in hand

he continued his run.

A truck approached and

he stuck out a thumb.

The truck had two flags

planted firm in the bed,

and decals of liberals

in states of distress.

Apropos of the reasoning

found in his head

the driver thought Clueless

used a finger instead.

So, he raised some dust

and shouted- “Woo-hoo!”

leaving Clueless all mussed

at mile marker two.

 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

Presidential illusions

led to a task.

To evict delusions

from his head-grass.

He said- “There’s plenty

Antifa to catch.

Just bust the many

in my Astro Thatch!®”

World leaders, pleased,

had a view of their own-

“We’re just glad he’s

leaving Greenland alone.”

The news corps remaining

had to ask “Why

ain’t he campaigning

for My Pillow Guy?”

 

‘Cause he had teeny anti-fascists

in his toupe!

 

There in “The Wing”,

(since there’s now only one)

like else everything,

it all came undone.

In that colorless house

things had come to boil.

They impeached the louse

according to Hoyle.

 

Clueless trudged into town

perched on his uppers

and asking around,

found the new one at supper.

He tugged at his forelock

and curtsied and whined,

then suffered the mercies

of that second in line.