Tuned erections night in America…

Now, let’s pull out those damned
measures, get those folding rulers!
– let’s count! and let’s just not forget, that
in this time we measure in „Feet”: –
Let’s see whose weapons are longer,
who licks, and bends over the tighter
for the title: and tunes the unreal to
look more realistic!

We're in the finish line!
Well-well the secret pockets
are being emptied now: the scale beam
whimes as it tilts: – but which direction? 
from left to right, from right to left, 
shall we balance it? in the middle? 
no way! that’s not an option! – 
Biden, or Trump? – Trump or Biden? –
Republican, or the Democrat, who’s
the stinkiest meat now in the burger?

Who will succeed to climb back
potentially from the flaccidity? 
To drive sluggishly proud 
patriotes wild? Who is the more
convincing nationalist? Whose 
camp is bigger? whose Trumpet 
is louder? Who rants
on the swing better for the teasing
„comfort” of the Presidential table? Cause

The pot is now the matter! the
stimulating whip of their perversion: – 
their tuned erection’s desired „pagina”
which is not the Viagra, and not even the
self-sacrifice: down to meat n’ blood, 
but rather... a proud-proud, but 
limpy anchor’s – power slam on the map – , 
in the brainwasher water of the 
North Atlantic Ocean...

... which is scanned thereabouts 
by the cheerleaders:

(Let’s go!)


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