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01/20/21: A Few Last Remarks From the Door of the Chopper

January 20, 2021 iambanapestD.C., farewell, Florida, Florida Man, golf, Neptune, pee, poem, poet, poetry, prostitutes, shithole, trumperick, Washington D.C.Leave a comment

01/14/21: Please Don’t Let That Half-Assed Coup Be the Taste I Leave in Your Mouth

January 14, 2021January 14, 2021 iambanapestcoup, gal, golf, grope, groping, half-assed, limerick, meeting, nose pickings, pitching a fit, poem, poet, poetry, Putin, sapping morale, taste, Trump, tweeting, Vlad, womanLeave a comment

01/10/21: Death Becomes Me, and Vice-Versa

January 10, 2021 iambanapestCOVID death toll, golf, heart, keen, limerick, makes my heart sing, poem, poet, poetry, scorn, sedition, snuff, suborn, treason, Trump, waningLeave a comment

12/25/20: Even in This Time of Pandemic, I Am Invigorating the Lingo of Golf

December 25, 2020 iambanapestbirdie, covid, COVID death toll, croak, golf, golf on Christmas, invigorate, limerick, lingo, patois, poem, poet, poetry, putt, Trump, TrumpieLeave a comment

09/10/20: You Say Withholding Vital Information, I Say Building a Legacy

September 10, 2020 iambanapestBob Woodward, bones, covid-19, golf, legacy, limerick, manslaughter, murder, oxygen, poem, poet, poetry, rage, recordings, Trump, withholding informationLeave a comment

Regarding the Bob Woodward tapes.
https://www.cnn.com/2020/09/09/politics/trump-bob-woodward-interviews/index.html

09/10/20: You Say Withholding Vital Information, I Say Building a Legacy

08/24/20: It Is Not Only an Actual But a Spiritual Bloodline

August 24, 2020August 24, 2020 iambanapestbloodline, golf, Jacob Blake, Kenosha, limerick, misery, poem, poet, poetry, slacks, spiritual, TrumpLeave a comment

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08/15/20: Only Connect

August 15, 2020August 15, 2020 iambanapestbatter, brownshirts, covid-19, golf, grieve, Kristallnacht, limerick, pie, poem, poet, poetry, post office, sabotage, schools, Trump, USPSLeave a comment

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08/02/20: I Might Call This a Modest Proposal if the Concept of Modesty Had Ever Chanced to Enter My Brain

August 2, 2020August 2, 2020 iambanapesta modest proposal, Gargantua, glut, golf, gut, Jonathan Swift, limerick, meat, modesty, poem, poet, poetry, protein, putt, Rabelais, room for them all, TrumpLeave a comment

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07/29/20: To Be Delivered With a Rueful Wince, If I Can Manage It (Which I Can’t)

July 29, 2020 iambanapestAfghanistan, Axios interview, burlesque, golf, grotesque, if it had reached my desk I would have done something, it never reached my desk, limerick, peacock, poem, poet, poetry, Russian bounties, Taliban, Trump, whoreLeave a comment

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Re this Axios interview by Jonathan Swan, particularly at 1:16 and 3:20.

07/29/20: To Be Delivered With a Rueful Wince, If I Can Manage It (Which I Can’t)

06/24/20: Maskless in Phoenix They Hymned Me All Night Long

June 24, 2020June 24, 2020 iambanapestall night long, golf, Hail Donald, Hail Mary, hymn, king, Klan, landlord, limerick, Phoenix rally, poem, poet, poetry, porn, prayer, racism, racism as porn, scorn, toot your own horn, TrumpLeave a comment

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