Ted Cruz, Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer’s Turd?

A poem inspired by Shakespeare

Photo by Gage Skidmore

Dear Senator Ted Cruz…

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s turd?

Thou art more sticky and more malodorous:

Rough winds do waft your feculence undeterred,

And your derrière hath aromatics unjustly onerous.

Sometime too hot the eye of Hell shines,

And often does his complexion look Cruz’d;

And every boner and moistness declines,

In lieu of being near him all’d rather be deuce’d.

But thy eternal miasma shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that disgust you inspire,

Nor shall death brag he is similarly portrayed,

Or feel it fair for the damned to smell your stench in fire.

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and gives warning of thee.

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