Biden wasn't becoming, the fool was far gone.
He misread the teleprompter, he then carried on.
He answered one question, flying into a rage.
Then an invisible hook yanked his a*s off the stage.
He was drug back to the basement, his diaper was changed.
They fed him some pudding, not thinking it strange.
He flopped onto the floor, his thumb found his mouth.
Everyone noticed it was retrieved from a hole further south.
He goo-gooed and slurped, passing some gas.
From a grown baby his size, a proportional blast.
He reveled in hearing "Joey cut a damn whopper"
Taking his thumb from his mouth he replaced the stopper.
It was all fun and games, not a care in the world.
He rolled around playfully where someone had hurled.
He called for his mommy, Jill appeared at his side.
He whispered obscenely, "Joey wanted a ride."
"Be a good boy" she said, as she removed his hands.
"Keep your mind out of the gutter" hoping he understands.
Hunter was watching, a twisted grin on his face.
Grabbing his coke he skedaddled, to his only safe space.
Soon the water was running, the tub quickly filled.
Hunter climbed in, he shot up, then peacefully chilled.
Just another day in the life of a pack of buffoons.
Someone else was calling the shots, not these baboons.
D.L. Crockett -- 11/6/23