Get out of the car, Donald: Covfefe
The old man spit almonds at the liquor store clerk for coming
around to the other side of the counter in order to feed
the thin Doberman a health food store treat
(Sprouts was right next door)
“He shouldn’t have that!” the old man said, spit “I don’t mean to yell, but last night
he had hideous diarrhea. (Hideous) (I was standing behind him. Great word choice.
I was impressed)
I’ve scrubbed so much shit out of my living room carpet
that the pain in my wrists is the only thing I’ve got left,
as far as proof that I’m alive.”
The old man thought about death a lot and looked hollow
The dog’s asshole was sensitive and he looked dehydrated and sad
The liquor store clerk said she was sorry, she should’ve first asked
Covfefe stepped around me like a John Wick fight scene
his eyes grinning like the wrong kind of condiments
“Hey mister,” Covfefe said, “I’ll give you 47 hundred dollars for the dog.
But only if this place sells beef jerky. Do you sell beef jerky?”
The lady who worked there said that they did.
“Sold. The dog, and all the beef jerky. I pay you for the dog
and her for the beef jerky. 47 hundred. Do we have a deal?”
The old man quivered, fully aware that he was only 3 or 4 more dog shits
away from ending his own life. He didn’t want to die that way.
On top a shit stained carpet. Dog. Shit. Stained.
Fuck that, the old man said in his head.
They had a deal.
On the ride home I asked Covfefe why he’d bought the dog
“Why do you think?!” Donald said, because he was sitting in the back seat
like he’s always sitting in the back seat. That’s what he does now.
He lives in the back seat. He pays people large bucks to provide him with
an unlimited amount of shit he orders from the Info Wars website and Kentucky Fried Chicken.
He won’t get out of the car.
He runs everything from back there
He’s the real thing #prick
so why would he?
“He bought the dog because they had beef jerky and the dog has diarrhea and we’re taking it
back to your place. Covfefe! Keep the dog away from my chicken! Can you comprehend what
I’m doing to you right now? I’d fucking think so.
I tried to ignore Donald but it’s impossible.
He’s a big dickish mess.
And I told him that
“The only thing I regret,” Donald said “is that I never played golf
with Evel Knievel.”
and for the first time, I believed him
and I drove home
embalmed with that and all these memories
we’ll never see again
All these times that are now dead for us
The times that are dead