How Wrong Can You Be

I feel if I'd only managed to get Max's poem published before the election we might have avoided the a result that was as calamitous as it was unexpected.


Poems of love and hate


Grumpy old man poems


Trump Dub

I want to be a Yankie, fat and rich and super swanky,
Cos then I’d get to vote for Donald Trump,
He’s my redneck king and saviour, the monarch of behaviour,
My favourite cultist son of Forest Gump.

And all my Klansman bros, and their cousins and their hos,
Can shelter in the warmth of Donald’s dream,
We won’t have to look at mosques, or lefty book kiosks,
And for our hols, his place in Aberdeen!

So, Americans unite, it’s time to fight the fight,
Let go out and vote for Trump, now don’t be dumb,
He’s a firm finger on the switch, unlike the Clinton bitch,
And soon he’ll blow them all to kingdom come.

So if you support mass genocide, or want to climb on for the ride,
Then board the jet marked Trump on polling day,
We’ll have a nuclear holocaust, but we’ll get the nukes at cost,
For Trump makes bombs and guns the American way.

So don’t be a wet old Brit, or some pinko little shit,
Coz Trump’s a man and men are made to rule,
He’s got Jesus on his side, Clint Eastwood there beside,
So just do what Donald says, the man’s no fool.

He’ll keep us safe from Mexes, Muslims, Hindus, Queers and Texes,
And anyone who hates Macdonalds, yes, them all,
And you’ll get cheap gasolines, Kentucky Fried and chilli beans,
And we’ll weather out the blast behind his wall.

Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved

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