OK, Oliver, tell us how you REALLY feel!

[gfarber]

11. The Grifter

A grifter in spray-painted hue,
With morals decayed through and through,
He struts like a king,
But reeks of the sting
Of a nation's worst sins on review.

A carcass in patriot’s clothes,
Where rot in the marrow still grows.
A brute, not a man,
Just a festering scam—
The shame that a nation now knows.

A tumor in liberty’s name,
Spray-painted and bloated with shame.
Not leader, but blight—
A shrine to our spite,
The puke of a nation’s acclaim.

He waddled in gold-plated shoes,
Spouting nonsense the gullible choose.
With a wink and a snort,
He made treason a sport—
And sold hats while dismantling the news.