I don’t want to kill Trump. Just want to see him dead. 

I don’t want to kill Trump. Just want to kill his friends. 

I wish that Cool Hand Luke would descend from the clouds

In a cast iron time machine. 

He’d light an unfiltered cigarette, look me in the eye,

And scream, “are you not seeing what I’m seeing?

I hope my kid’s first word is Fuck Donald Trump.

I hope my kid’s second word is Fuck Donald Trump.

Their eyes roll back in the back of their heads. 

They’ll never finish the fiftieth egg.

I don’t want to kill Trump. Just want to see him dead. 

I don’t want to kill Trump. Just want to kill his friends.