SUNDAY VERSES: The State of ‘The Onion,’ Parts I & II (3/1/2026)

By RAHN ADAMS

Part I

(written before the war began early Saturday MLST*)

Donald Trump shits his britches, / and Franklin Graham merely giggles, / “Oh, just hold your noses, folks, / and pretend it’s chocolate pudding.”

The Donald puts his signature, / which looks like obscene squiggles, / on all the merch he sells, / like red MAGA hats, Chinese Bibles and white hooding.

On stage and behind the podium, / Don shimmies, shakes and wiggles; / if he didn’t play air-accordian so well, / you can bet the old Trumpster would sing.

The state of the onion is glassified, / the apple-polishing press corps signals; / his fragile ego’s a veil of tears, / and his id’s a mycologic no-good thing.

Donald Trump craps his pants, / and Stephen Miller giggles, / “Keep lying to those dumb [folks], sir; / they don’t know horseshit from hasty pudding.”

* * *

Part II

(written late Saturday night MLST*)

We’re past the soup and the salad, / so let’s picture the second cargo plane / full of flag-draped coffins being unloaded / on that dark tarmac at Dover AFB.

They usually land after midnight, / and no photographs are allowed, / just one of the president’s salute — / the first time they arrive, that is, not the second,

Or the third time, or the fourth, / and on and on and on / until the dying in those desert sands is finally done, / all while the lying pedophile golfs at Palm Beach.

As far as he’s concerned, / it’s about the killings, yes, / those that he and his rich friends make / by procuring cheaper cuts of meat to feed into the ugly grinder.

No, the only picture he cares about / is the big one — that of his bottom line — / not shots of the boys who die / or of the girls who cry because he has no shame.

You know it’s fucking nuts, right? / That millions of us voted for him? / That some Christians still think he’s their golden boy? / And now we know why Jesus wept.

* * *

*Mar-a-Lago Standard Time