Trump is now our Moral Barometer by David Susswein

stretching her bare arms above her head,
to fix her ponytail
her breast swells up with lift of her arms,
she’s trying to catch the sun’s rays.

Her upreached fingertips block the dazzling light,
she’s been watched, and is watched,
she’s watching being watched, and in watching,
she’s complicit in her rape

well… no more pretence, take her to the cement ground floor,
punch her face, once twice and three,
bloody pump i’ve made of her nose [squirting out],
rip off her clothes, the panties – thin dirty g-string,
i stuck my hardness right up her, a swift motion,
i said… thrust i said… thrust  i said… thrust..

gave another light slap on her face, withdraw i’ve finished,
withdrew before i exploded – spunked that on her face.

“She was wearing dirty clothes, and her panties! My God!
she touched herself in public! I swear!
And do you know what, Mr.Jury, I’d already had her!”
i sat on the uncomfortable testify bench in court,
looking at the jury, with honest open eyes,
“We’d already done it then – and then she said she liked it!”

the jury humphed and muttered to themselves and spoke
in voices swallowed up by breaths when the judge stared at them.
my barrister presented the torn little g-string
in a tiny plastic bag, and told stories of previous boys,
me, i got quite aroused, and touched myself again,
but beneath my bench – so no one could see.
and as for the injuries? well, i guess that was not me,
i mean; any dirty whore putting her bits up for a-reaching
gets them all reached up by any guy who’s up.

When the jury [yea!] acquitted me, and i shook my
barrister’s hand [she did not even look at me],
i did notice this little waif of a girl thing,
turning her back to me: her ass to me: in the jury box,
she had such innocent eyes.
I think I’m going to follow her home, just to say hello.

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