Were John of Gaunt Alive Now

(with apologies to William Shakespeare)

 

This toilet bowl of fools, this lying crew,

This bog of infamy, this seat of knaves,

This other Russia, demi-tyranny,

This fortress built by Donald for himself

Against uprightness and the word of truth,

This loathsome breed of men, this evil world,

This pompous ass set in the west wing chair,

Which serves him in the office of a wall

Or as a moat defensive to his House,

Against the entry of more flexible minds,

This fetid swamp, this mire, this hole, this Trumpland.

 

 

 

 

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