Political Soup
Published in
1 min readOct 12, 2019
From my cage
I watch the witch
who stirs a cauldron
black as pitch.
She stares back
with evil grin,
her fingernails
peeling skin.
Pinch of spider,
drained swamp scum,
dried left wings,
and breath of dumb.
A bit of dirt,
two bleeding hearts,
pork from the barrel
and dark horse farts.
She cackles loud
profanities.
Wild-eyed frenzy,
insanities.
Here she comes —
she’s come undone.
Another run
for this crooked one?
Into my bowl
she dishes her brew.
I gag at the sight —
deplorable stew.
Scandal seasoned,
fake news laced.
Spies and lies
and greed to taste.
Where’s the beef?
Is this lame duck?
Rino? Bluedog?
WTF?
No … I won’t eat
political soup!
This toxic waste
is fat cat poop.
