I crowed like Chanticleer: “Your bitch got beat!”
That was the night Trump kicked Frau Klinton’s ass.
Isn’t that why we find these moments sweet?
The foes that we have hungered to harass
Face clear humiliation. It’s first class,
The thrill that their discomfiture supplies.
It isn’t just a glory: it’s a gas!
You could have seen it, that night, in my eyes.
Now Ossoff, with a neck one-half the size
Of Justin Bieber’s wrist, awash in money
From Hollywood, slinks off and duly cries
His feeble cries. You must admit it’s funny.
To Democrats, entitled and effete,
I crow like Chanticleer: your bitch got beat!