Odor of Obama Musk

The dark odor of Obama Musk
Wafted through the White House,
From the crack under the door
To the Oval Office
A masticating, gurgling concert,
Softly hummed:
Ascension's carnivorous bacchanal,
A new cabinet feast's buffet,
exotic and gourmet:
Chicago's legendary strange hot dogs.

Barack Obama Type incense smoke
Gently wafts down illustrious corridors
Down to the top secret basement
To the central dogma where
Primordial consciousness soup
Congeals into a corrupt fake form
Under the Sovereign House
An artifice of Kojimaic Nightmare

The Foul Smell
That Smelled So Bad
You Wanted To Smell It More
The Hot Dog
Whose Mystery Meat
Did Not Incent Solutions
A Question No One Asked
A Fart No One Wants to Claim
The Sticky Quality of Incest

Barack Obama Type incense smoke
Wafts from hall to soul...
Barack Obama Type incense smoke
Infests within us all....

“To begin with, We're not what you'd call "human." Over the past 200 years, a consciousness appeared layer by layer at the crucible of the White House. It's not unlike life started in the oceans four billion years ago. The White House was Our primordial soup, a base of evolution. We are formless. We are the very discipline and morality that Americans invoke so often. How can anyone hope to eliminate Us? As long as this nation exists, so will We.”

I CUT EVIL GODS DOWN WITH A KATANA.

I CUT EVIL GODS DOWN WITH A KATANA.

I CUT EVIL GODS DOWN WITH A KATANA.

Cthulhu interrupted my meditation.
I cut Cthulhu down with a katana.
That is not zen which can eternal lie
For in strange aeons even zen may die.
There will be no cosmic horror in my pathetic fallacy.
I returned to my reveries of irrational meaningless death.
Ah, Zen! Ronin time.

ZEN!
Ronin time!

I cut through the smoke with a katana,
I cut through Obama with a katana,
I cut through the Metal Gear with a katana
I cut, I cut, I cut,
I am a lightning bolt!
I am a samurai!

Zen!
Ronin time.