NUMBER : LETTER :: PROLOG : EPILOG

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A Christmas present, from Robert, to Donald, is being transcribed, and typewritten, even copied, as ye sleep.  President’s men, sleep not.  An off-white White House with men,

to match, know sleeplessness’ tossing and turning.  The Intifada is on … no thanks to Don. Cauldrons all over the Middle East, are, as if afire.  And, within them, are … children.

 On the tallest tale, ever told.  Or, tomorrow’s … trend?  Fictional, nonfiction, interactive.  It’s what Penemue, googled Art for.  For interactive, fictional, nonfiction.

Oslo, from Pyongyang, is far.  DC, is closer.  In irony, distance from Oslo, does not, matter. Mattering ironically more, is Twitter.  In twitter’s algorithm, alchemy, does … matter.
In Oslo sits a criminal court, internationally.  In, appropriately, the Netherlands, oh so far overseas, away.  Far for Don, it is even farther, for Kim.  Oslo, from Pyongyang, is far.

It’s day 342 of a Teflon Don’s, presidency.  The 76th anniversary, of Pearl Harbor’s infamy. Reminder.  This date’s apt to remind all.  In Oslo sits a criminal court, internationally.

Ongoing, criminal, organizations.  Possibly, Bob has been studying unsavory possibilities; alleging, beyond, a litany of possible, obstructions, of justice … treason … and bribery.

Treason.  Increasingly, both quid and quo ye clearly see.  And crimes against … humanity. Donald’s un-American acts against Muslims and Mexicans so un-American, allegedly.

Hucksterism; a time-dishonored American tradition’s been as if by P.T. Barnum, surreally revived.  Building, as the Don is wont to do, from failing states, only.  cc:   

 On the tallest tale, ever told.  Or, tomorrow’s … trend?  Fictional, nonfiction, interactive.  It’s what Penemue, googled Art for.  For interactive, fictional, nonfiction.

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