A FAKE PRESIDENT
Obama is a suit without buttons.
Emptiness is the feeling he puts in your jacket pocket.
He is an expensive hippie.
He is a teleprompter poet.
He has no feel for language.
Repetition is his remote control of other’s words.
He is as stupid as the millennials think he is smart.
Does he ever wake at night and realize that he is undeserving,
That he is a bugle with gum in the valves,
That he is love chewed up and stuck on his soulless shoe?
Will the box he is buried in be shocked about carrying