The Genius Ignoramus Poem by Dave SmithWhite

Always claiming victory.
Rotten to the core.
The bully-pulpit history,
Of a creep and sleazy bore.
Beset by mean conspiracies,
Of perpetual spleen and gall;
The gallows humour inanities,
Scaffold one and all.

In his left brain, there is nothing right.
In his right brain, there's nothing left.
His organ is so scrambled,
His thinking is bereft.
It's like bad music sampled,
That lacks all grunt and heft;
He backtracks as he rambles,
For wasting time is theft.

Always blaming enemies,
That upset his apple-cart.
He lacks the basic empathy,
That give true humans - heart.
Any master of dark comedy,
Must envy this upstart,
Who wears the mask of perfidy,
With neither wit nor art.

He demonstrates, his sharp decline,
From still the lowest base.
He shows the world, his state of mind,
With yet, the least of grace.
How did this dross rise to the top,
So craven for applause?
Perhaps the kool-aid replaces pop,
As the lysol kills the spores.

He's got his wish, he's famous:
For having dropped the ball.
And now he seeks to blame us;
As his greatness palls.
So while his numbers crater,
He can hide behind his wall,
For as a mass debater,
He keeps us all in thrall.

He's got his wish, he's famous,
As are all the great mistakes.
He's a genius ignoramus,
The more the norms he breaks.
He's curiously, incurious,
Obsessed and self-enthralled;
His preening mien so spurious,
Does hubris presage fall?