An Orangutan Leaping & Bounding (in the White House)

State dinners will become a reality show;
one brickhead in charge;
he may know knives from spoons,
but everybody wonders if he's a baboon.

Better hold on to that final dollar;
mere coins are coming soon;
brown men and that sloth of brown bears,
rounded up to be transported to the moon,

Or Idaho, wherever a fence can be constructed:
what's this ado with pretty fences?
keep the Mexicans where they belong,
in Mexico, awash with poverty, balancing act.

Manifest Destiny is long, long dead & gone,
spearheaded by the bastard second amendment,
fuck you overequiped gunslingers,
to own them is tantamount to using;

To kill thieving niggers and Messicans on your well-groomed lawns,
splitter their innards all over the ivy,
and it's a guess you fuckheads masturbate to the thought
the dream of retaliation to a world spinning out of your way.

I say there are no pure racial strains,
that the nigger and jew in me
are the same jew and nigger in you:
so

New book length poem in the works. Working title: The People. Primary subject: Native Americans, their mythology,  all the broken treaties, their land, the State of the New Union.