His thoughts seeking relevance, gushed forth from his piehole.
Lies meant to lend credence ,to his insanity, an impossible goal.
No one present was listening, their minds focused far away.
They had heard this claptrap before, same BS, different day.
He wanted to force them to listen, he thought to cut off their ears.
He was to stupid to realize that without ears, nobody hears.
He was deterred from his plan by his son the court jester, the fool.
Even when high on the crack, he could still be a useful tool.
 With minds melded together they were dumber than a doorstop.
 The scum that rose to the top of the barrel, the cream of the crop.
Hunter was his godsend, his shadow, a chip off the old block.
Believe nothing either one says, everything they say is a crock.
If any truth should cross their lips, the end could be coming.
Unless it's their lies dressed up as truth aka democrat chumming.
They're both skilled, adept liars, practiced in the art of deceit.
They're not charmed, just protected, they won't catch any heat.
It's much easier to be honest but for crooks it pays more to lie.
It's something that comes natural, when you're always high.
Listening to Joe is so boring, my mind was starting to wonder.
It's when I'm most creative, when I have time to squander.
I guess that's what Joe does for me, he puts words in my head.
The difference, people love my words, something gets said.
Keep putting it out there Joe, for me it's all good material.
I translate it back into truth, it seems bizzare, so surreal.
You use your words to make enemies, I'm making money.
I don't think I bore anyone, check my work out, I can be funny.
D.L. Crockett -- 7/8/23