Since campaigns roll both up and down,
The laurels go to wizard, not clown;
And certified winners in each race,
Must leverage far more than pretty face.
Invent your wave, trumpet the platform—
Sound your calls rowdy with reform.
Triumphant fighters excite the masses,
Not demagogue “the base” like asses.
How ‘bout jokes and hilarity,
To revive lost party jollity.
But charmless Trump ain’t funny.
Tons of darkness, tons of hush money.
Trump sneers turn foes to enemies,
Pure innocent who oozes felonies;
Who dares pervert his perfect calls
Framed as indictment protocols?
Guess Trump’s the best Rethugs can do,
Crushes Blowhard Ron like a corkscrew;
DeSantis’ pitch—tin-ear, gruff and grim,
What’s phonier than that forced grin?
Even nastier, double backspace,
A loser copycat Trump nutcase;
Outlawing abortion wasn’t enough,
Self-righteousness can’t be too tough.
The minority right-wing party
Is anything but hale and hearty;
How can extremists refresh their wares
When cornered by vile, self-made snares?
They “won” by owning the Supreme Court,
Then lost when marked “cruel spoilsport;”
How many hated court judgments
Spur how many election descents?
Where’s the GOP growth vote lever?
Their battered sound bites void of clever.
Why should any non-Trumper vote R?
No gains, fiascos, shysters debarred.
Over the top, flooding bad news—
Each week the lawless warlord accused
Of felonies numberless, far and wide—
And every defense leaves brains quite fried.
Rethugicans, the new laughing stock,
Empty gestures are chock-a-block;
Yet clueless they whine and defame—
Seizing ways to foul out of the game.
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