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.