On infinity: Or how long MAGA clown shows pander to cult derangement

Good job, MAGA: No electoral blunder surpasses the 2024 cataclysm, brimstone fallout everywhere

If all the world’s a revealing stage,
What’s its moral and mental age?
Trumpster toddlers at best act five,
Disgorging tantrums, shuck and jive.

That perfectly fits the cult’s top faker,
The world’s disruptive, non-deal-maker.
Imploding Trump stumbles deaf and blind, 
A jackass who “thinks” with his behind. 

Trumpty-dumpty topples off walls
In spasms, scoring fabled falls;
Outrage snowballs like an avalanche,
And yet MAGA still bets the ranch.

How can this half-wit truly guide us? 
Beyond menace, here’s Anti-Midas
Who makes not gold but disaster,
Ruining all the world even faster.

Apt voter punishments fit the crime,
Defying each dumb pantomime;
Enabled by cult complicity,
What isn’t higgledy piggledy? 

When, pray tell, comes the knockout punch,
Who and what gobbles Donald’s lunch?
Come what, come may, let sleazebags boast:
No miracle looms—this mob is toast. 

Fiascos deplete the Loser-in-chief,
With whims thinner than tacky gold leaf.
Beware MAGA’s blatant three card monte,
Bold as brass schemers caught in flagrante.

Delusions of grandeur burst overseas,
Assaulting civilians as they please;
Rogues jeer at laws with impunity, 
But comeuppance plans its own jubilee.