Unleavened

Unleavened

I flee the leaven of the Pharisees.
The Pharisees are mortally offended.
I’ve failed to understand what they intended
Through operation of their bakeries.
For everyone who happily agrees,
They name rewards. But my soul has descended
Into denial that their robes are splendid.
Because I’m wicked, I’m not on my knees.
Hypocrisy that they embrace is not
Hypocrisy. My criticism fails.
The points I make are all unhelpful rot.
The facts I cite are simply empty tales.
How did they shape their doctrines? They forgot.
But they know well what leadership entails.

–Tom Riley

They Told Me

They Told Me

They told me to believe, but I declined.
They told me to obey, but I refrained
From action on designs that they’d designed.
They told me to believe, but I declined
To set aside my own insistent mind
And bow down to the low and empty-brained.
They told me to believe – but I declined.
They told me to obey – but I refrained.

–Tom Riley

Notes on an Infantile Understanding

Notes on an Infantile Understanding

His understanding’s infantile – but, hey,
He’ll still impose his brainless point of view
On everyone, today and every day!
His understanding’s infantile. But, hey,
Why let stupidity get in his way?
He’ll do what such as he must always do.
His understanding’s infantile, but hey:
He’ll still impose his brainless point of view!

–Tom Riley

Makes It All Worthwhile

Makes It All Worthwhile

Of most stuff you are not an afforder.
Twenty dollars is now worth a quarter.
Soon you’ll have to eat shit.
But don’t worry one bit:
You will still have the liberal world order!

–Tom Riley

Unreasonable Prospects

Unreasonable Prospects

Will I have an irrational day?
Will illogic be much on display?
Will it be a crazed show?
Though I don’t wish it so,
I don’t really have much of a say.

–Tom Riley

Old Reliable

Old Reliable

Nowadays I find
I can’t count on anything
but the abacus.

–Tom Riley

Rules-Based Order Crowd

The Rules-Based Order Crowd

The rules-based order which these pricks defend
Is such a load of shit, the smell would choke
A goat. As they quite visibly descend
Into a state inspired by meth or coke
Or both, their solemn speeches are a joke—
And all their threats as vain as tranny tits.
Touting their wealth, they’ll soon learn they are broke.
Touting their strength, they’ll soon prove helpless shits.
Right now it’s evident they’ve lost their wits.
Their spokesmouth, who was formerly a fool,
Is now a senile fool. He snorts, and spits,
And then insists he’s competent and cool.
How can such hopeless boneheads cast a spell?
Believe them and they’ll drag you down as well.

–Tom Riley

The Lamest Things

The Lamest Things

To God you say the lamest things.
They’re still accepted, though, as prayer.
In you are no prophetic springs:
To God you say the lamest things!
Sincerity may lend them wings—
But still, I’m sure, they foul the air.
To God you say the lamest things.
They’re still accepted, though, as prayer.

–Tom Riley

¡No necesitamos a ningunos Democratas hediondos!

¡No necesitamos a ningunos Democratas hediondos!

You are a breakfast taco now, señor.
So says the ugly, shriveled White House witch,
Joe Biden’s nursemaid, formerly his whore.
Before dementia settled hard, the bitch
Would jump into the pool without a stitch—
And Joe would, too, while Secret Service guys
And girls got sick. Now Joe can only twitch,
And soil himself, and read pre-scripted lies.
The thing is, caballero: if you’re wise,
You’ll take the hint, and ditch this fucking ship,
Ignore the empty and self-serving cries
Of Bidens as they take their final dip,
And vote Republican. Be free, though sad!
Republicans suck, too, but not so bad.

–Tom Riley

Body by A.K.

Body by A.K.

“They said that I was dying – and they sneered.
Then Andrew Kersting gave me workout tips.
Now, once again, I’m someone to be feared:
You see it in their eyes and trembling lips.
They brag that they’ve been sinking Russian ships—
But, when the shirt comes off, they shrink away.
To calm their nerves, they may take little sips
Of liquor. Their belligerence is gay.
Banderites we defeat day after day.
With my own hand, I’ve judo-chopped a lot.
Where is the champion of the CIA?
He’ll soon be showing up to face me – not!
Da! I shall silence all their lies and jokes—
Thanks to the Andrew Kersting Method, folks!”

–Tom Riley

(CIA director says Putin is, if anything, too healthy.)