04.06.25
tariffs and a slingshot and a little boy toy box…
tariffs and a slingshot and a little boy toy box…
his little boy ailments make up excuses for multitudes of tariffs to hurl…since so many places won’t praise him he’s mad at far more in the world!…
he’s tried rearranging charred marbles to look like earth’s circular map…blowing his fancied opponents away with his hissy fit hot air attacks!…
he lays out fake claims and toy figures to play in his bait and switch games…mutely calling all gullible ones ‘losers’ or loudly all discerning ones ‘lame’!…
he reenacts old matinee gangster flicks where mob bosses pull their scams…from provocation onto blackmail and into coarse extortion commands!…
his carton of felt tip markers fills a craving for an amazing signature look…they puff up his name much better than pens in his cursive practice books!…
he backpedals his rules for ‘simon says’ using a quiet sigh or a megaphone…as he flips his motionless puppets into a lonelier gilded room at his home!…
he calls that last strike a wild pitch as his whiff swings the bat on his buns…his ego fibs to steal bases and then hit the greatest grand slam home runs!…
he’s crowned himself king of some mountaintop with no rivals ever found…just a bogus pride inside his mind that keeps this one-man bout around!…
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(more to come)…
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