Mrs.45 Poem by Kevin Patrick

Dead eyes converse with unforgiving wrath
Besieged on a thrown, of misandry’s dress;
That's likeness, is Scarlett from a cinched stained past
Requiem in the alley of encroaching flesh
Now shedding the veneer of the wallflower
She strolls torrid streets with lethal seduction
Engaging black knights from the vicious empire
To unveil the scourge their cancers ambition
And mark their laurels of rodents allure
With eight cylinders for pawned termination
She packs cold heat with an angelic demure
candidly slipping with vigilant sedition
Steal presses stealthily to nylon webbed thighs
Move with tepid caution to evade Mrs.45

　

The Vacant rose stalks with nubile delights
Silently striding the Brownstones for creeps
and waiting for any inhospitable slight
To unleash the lion to cull on off the sheep
She's the girl next door from the Manson House
Walking down Lexington and central park
Like Elaine and Valerie in a Taffeta Blouse
Ready to inject her black widows mark
With money shots carnage of an abbes retreat
Mute of compassion Miss America's ripper
Leaves no stone for the white flag of peace
And with the loaded glock in her low top zipper
Justice has no fury for the nemesis blind
So prepare to meet your maker through Mrs.45.