I DON’T BLAME IT ON THE PRESIDENT
So what’s the difference whether you stand on your head or your head stands on you?
If my head were an onion I would cry.
I will cry me a river when I die.
That’s not logical.
It’s tautological as repetition is emphasis
You love me like a little devil, don’t you.
I love you like a monsoon.
I am all windy and wet in surrounding you with inside-out dementia.
Glad that I met you,
Glad that I stayed all of these years since you slammed the door
On my butt
And I was ready to leap out ahead of you into the traffic.
America was a great country when I was a teenager and could worry about
Relationships instead of political failures.
I don’t blame it on the President.
The blame is inherent in his ideological redundant blunders.
His mistakes are little magnets like warts on his face.
I miss the small gestures when you and I held hands on the bus.
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