I’m Trump,
deplorable and irredeemable,
least godlike soul in history. Inhuman.

Even if they crucify me and I rise,
who could I rise as
in your wildest dreams?

Believe me, I’d be worse.
They’d bring a blind girl
and I’d hock onto the dust,

then with my fingertip
stir spittle into clay.
But rather than anoint her eyes,

I’d push my crotch against her face!
You see?
Salvation simply isn’t in my DNA.

I’d drain the frothing demons
out of suicidal hogs
and re-inject them into men.

Submit.
The Christ you called upon to suffer
on the cross is certified as dead.

I sacrificed it all.
It cannot be reversed
so now you’re free to be your worst.

 

 

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