In humid dreams,

Donald oils Putin’s hairy

Muscled chest.

Its the best.

Sliding, stroking his

Tiny orange fingers

Over giant muscle mountains;

Wiry black forests

Circling Putin’s navel-cave

Where he keeps his

manly power.

Wake to wetness.

Whatevs.

Reach for the rest of the Big Mac.

See you tonight my Vlad,

I got a date with a fox.