democratic debate

The Demo debate in Vegas
Was a circle firing squad.
They sounded like Andy and Amos,
With no one deserving the nod.

Trump must have been incredulous --
Just wait for the tweet --
All of that intermural fuss
To his ears is music sweet.

Money Bags for once showed up,
And upon him did they pounce.
Any thoughts of the winning cup
For him now took a bounce.

With his utterance of, “Communist,”
He performed a Trumpian task.
Otherwise, he merely pissed
Himself, as deep questions they did ask.

The front-runner held,
Though target he should have been.
‘Twas he who should have been felled
By others who sought to win.

Instead, they went at each other,
Losing sight of the target.
It was sister fighting brother,
Painting a scene blood-scarlet.

With Demo hopefuls thus wounded,
Leaving them Trumpian fodder,
In an atmosphere sweat-humid,
Further stained bye dishonor.

Why not leave Trump in wonder,
Expecting an obvious pick,
One that meets him with blunder,
And whose landings would not stick?

Why not blow his wild mind,
Expecting the usual, stray bums,
Send him, instead, a rare find:
Pete Buttigieg and Stacy Abrams?

Curtis W. Long

Curtis W. Long

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