You needn’t consult Alvin Toffler

To figure a future for Loeffler:

The stock deals of Kelly

Are stinky and smelly.

Her denials make things even awfler.

The tall man gets grouchy

When he hears li’l Fauci:

An icon of science

Who’s out of compliance

And gives the world’s leader an ouchy.

 

The win of one would-be commander
Looks dim when he too-left meanders
His answer on Castro
Will put him in last row
Unless someone sits down with Sanders 

In secular France, it would seem,

We all have the right to blaspheme.

If you’re worried that’s gone

Listen up to Macron:

It’s the heart of what makes France supreme.

A hedge fund investor named Hodge

Had dummies he had to massage

To get into schools

That weren’t even cool

And now he is locked in une cage

She has already shared with you the limerick she wrote long ago about Jonathan Turley; now that Louis Gohmert has popped up in the impeachment proceedings, UD brings back an old limerick she wrote about his frustrated efforts to have the National Portrait Gallery remove a bust of Margaret Sanger.

A congressman famed for his anger
Wants museums to bust Margaret Sanger.
Their refusal leaves Louie
– At zero for two-y –
To calm himself down with his wanger.

… for whom lying about consensual sex is way impeachable, but bribing an ally desperate for military aid in a hot war is no way impeachable, UD thought she’d share this limerick she wrote years ago about Turley.

Turley is an avid defender of polygamists.

A colleague of UD‘s named Turley
Wants one boy to have many girlies.
“My thing on polygamy
Makes UD quite sick of me,
And even my wife has turned surly.”

 My answer to Mr. Bloom, L.?
I'm fine, and am nowhere near hell.
My answer to this?
I'll stick with the Swiss.
The weather in Zurich is swell. 

The way-Catholic Cardinal Ritter
Is standing knee-deep in the shitter.
But what can they do?
That fucking tattoo.
At least you can't call the team quitters.

A naughty young man from Fuzhou

Thought China should equally know

Our every analysis

Regarding catalysis.

And now off to prison he’ll go.

The adventures of Leniency Alec

Are now looking downright vandalic:

From Epstein’s erections

To child-sex projections

The theme’s become totally phallic.

You can’t have a sip of Campari.

It’s hotter than ten Kalaharis.

So tell us Michel.

I mean, what the hell?

Why did FIFA select the Qataris?

Listen up, cuz I’m gonna be brief:

Who wrote the thing, Sontag or Rieff?

Conservative; Sorelist —
Who wrote Mind of Moralist?

Was someone around here a thief?

Our school of pharma doth deplore

The racketeering John Kapoor.

We’ve ordered a slurry

Cuz we’re in a hurry

To sandblast his name from the door.

At drug firms there’s truly a science

To being the Chief of Compliance:

A grasp geographic

Of best towns to traffic

Plus conspiracy, greed, and connivance.