It stinks

to holy hell-

the old man

smell-

that leaves

the future

behind.

Like bad

body spray

that won’t go

away,

the redolence—

the prominence

and dominence

of intolerance—

is fetid.

Shamelessly 

reeking

while constantly

seeking

money

and political

support,

intent to 

distort

and contort

the law,

I remain 

in awe

that he can

clench

the nomination

with the stench

of abomination.

Ballot removal

has found

approval

in some states

thus far.

His odor

persists

as he 

insists

he’s clean

as he vents

his spleen

on the rest

of us.

Meanwhile,

the elder

once fiesty

pol

needs to call

a life line.

He smells 

fine,

but too benign

and in

decline,

which is sad

and also

terrifying.

Gimme that

Old Spice

as when 

he was

Vice,

or entice

someone

else to run.

Voters want

vim

and vigor,

(and some 

want vinegar);

we can’t 

let it

all

come undone.

The new year

upon us

when we’ll

vote for 

the POTUS

should be

one for 

the ages.

And their

ages 

will play

into the fray

with a bouquet

of toilet water. 

So hold

your nose;

here it goes:

2024 is here.

Volunteer.

Persevere.

Be sincere.

And vote.

Here’s 

to a high note

ending

with all

that’s impending:

we’ll be

sending

the offending

away.