pretzel-shaped, his misconceptions make the problems worse,
full of strong beliefs this turdball shoving corpses in a hearse.

dons a flight suit, sneers at cameras, apes across the palace floor,
waves a flag and garbles stuff he kan't remember anymore

as he stomps off in a tizzy, poomf! he shuts the milhouse door,
dropping papers off a table, shrieking loudly,
"This Is WAR! I'm The KING! I AM The King!
That's right. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! "

streams-of-lies that never end!
fifty million scapegoats in his database – "it's war!"
forever on a witchhunt,
he buttonholes a private fleet of bootlicker lackeys!
scowling from the backseat of his limo, mussolini-like:

"Lesser Folks, You Must Believe!
I Rule By God, By Divine Right."