Summit Times Ja Just Gotta Walk Away...

Excusing yourself as if...
going to the bidet,
an immense water closet
(perhaps the size of
Mar A Lago type getup),
sans human waste
(after flushing)

empties into prez Donald's bay,
where one bum wrapped aforementioned
toilet finely (and finally) enthrones
derriere exquisitely, and, delicately
intricately, chiseled wrought with cloisonne

ah...enjoying simple pleasure ass I say
sipping one after another Red Bull, whence
with one final trumpet of the rump -
(as acknowledgment to angry 1%),
though quite reluctantly did pay -

hitting the custom built in combination
handsome replica Taj Mahal fountainhead golf
course made from clay
baked Adobe bathroom links
(whew...long Atlas) shrugging off

responsibilities, escorted
by migrant compadre
Russian Putin lookalike uncannily
also resembles plucked Kernel Sanders
advocating consuming buttered Thomas

English muffins with oreos can delay,
tending to government, who successfully
playfully, melodiously preaches, sermonizes
and absolute zero values benefits burning
off calories, where couples sashay,

asper square and/or contra dancing,
where the caller hollers hip hip hooray
barely audible above noisy fracas and fray
of crowded house,
avast throng of village people stomp
louder than a quiet

riot global military foray
anathema to dogma,
karma, persona... of
Jacques Cousteau, or like
minded millennials and/or gray
bearded whelk homed by elasmobranchii.