I in no way advocate the murder of politicians or the President of the United States, no matter what kind of dipshit gets elected to that office. This is merely a poetic vision of an apocalyptic nightmare I recently had.
Here stands the carious commander-in-chief,
the putrescent president,
his lectern crumbling under flames
while 3 suns bloom on the horizon.
His jaw stammers up and down
on a bleached skull
which slowly browns
under the heat
(he's between basting cycles),
the timber and plaster set-piece
blasting apart in a wave
of fiery malice.
There was a joint session
of Congress in attendance as well,
skeletons applauding the spectral address.
Dust, human ash, and deficient dreams
drift away like spilled seeds
but the ground beneath them lays infertile.