This year facts didn’t matter in the voting booth,
And to parse fact from fiction would take a sleuth.
You’ve got your facts, I’ve got mine,
So don’t even try to change my mind,
For we’ve entered and era (not an epoch, I hope) of the post-truth.
Poetic Justice
Buck Banks | Apr. 17, 2024
To hear Trump talk, he’s the only one
Who’s ever stood trial for crimes he’s done.
But instead of courtroom drama,
We get Trump in his pajamas,
That’s how he earned his new nickname: Don Snoreleone.