Grifter’s Crusade
Once, a talking head of Fox fame,
A shyster wrapped in red-blue flame,
He watched the rallies, felt the pull—
Now dons God’s armor, polished wool
With slogans sharp and eyes ablaze,
He stepped into the fervent craze,
Preaching to the religious crowd,
Loud enough to make them proud.
He speaks of god, of a demon fight,
Casting shadows left and right,
Paid anti-Semite is his new game,
Jew hatred, he now fans the flame.
At every speech, he plugs a tale,
Becomes the hero without fail,
A Qatari puppet, bold and bright,
With Russian gold, a gleaming sight.
He knows the chords, he hits the notes,
In time with rants and echoed quotes,
Waving the cross, raising cheers,
With BFF Alex Jones fanning fears.
Yet still, he marches, face aglow,
In movement’s garb, staged for show,
Claiming he’s now the people’s friend,
Hoping to seize MAGA in the end.
But the faithful know, in the hush,
His fairy zeal is a grifting rush—
An act, a bid to hold the throne,
A crusade claimed, but not his own.
References
Hi, My Name Is Tucker Carlson and I’m A Swamp Creature
The Smartest Guy Joe Knows