Robomontade

Once upon a time

When things were likely

Very much then as they are now:

Balderdash and bluster,

Considered as front runners

For reindeer names,

Defined the idle swank

Who self-servingly claimed

The government stank.

And upon their hubristic

Election-messaging planks,

The wealthy and bored

Spewed rant after rant after rant.

Heavens to Betsy

Some observers cried.

You know, that Michigan twit

That bought her position

Because her prime mission

Was that of public school mortician.

She, of course, was not alone.

It was a time of boasting

Of flatulent bombast;

It's a gas, gas, gas.

A time of serenade.

Unbridled gasconade.

The big charade.

Over and over and over:

Goebbels gerbils

Copy and paste.

Repetition defines truth.

Who cares that if it lacks

Even basic facts?

So some of the people

Bowed and prayed

To the gaslit god they'd made.

What's good for the goose

Is jam for the maid.

What's allegedly true

Is actually shade.

No matter how they slice it

Those fools got played.

Robomontade.