Andreas Fleps

Andreas Fleps
is a 29-year-old poet, based near Chicago. He studied Theology and Philosophy at Dominican University, and has appeared or is forthcoming in publications such as High Shelf PressSnapdragon, Allegory Ridge, and Waxing & Waning, among others. His debut collection of poems entitled, “Well Into the Night” will be released by Energion Publications at the end of the year. Battling Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder since the age of fivehe translates teardrops.

The Trumpiest Trump That Could Ever Be Trump Is Trump:
A Satire Poem

“I feel better than I did 20 years ago!”
Jump ship Jesus? It took him three days to rise.
I came back from COVID in two. COVID asked,
Mr. Trump, how did you get better so fast? I told it even
when I am sick, I am better than everyone’s best. I get
the best of best. All of the best combined is less than
my least best, which is the best. And, boy, can I breathe.
Out of breath? Never. No one has ever breathed as much
as me. I breathe underwater, better than fish. I could
drown, yet still be breathing. I am air. People breathe me
in, I breathe so well. More alive than life. You might not
know this, but god breathed into me first. I was Adam
before Adam. Grabbed Eve by the pussy, she loved it.
She loved it when I whispered in her ear to eat the apple.
She said my voice is music. Entrancing. And I love
music too. Listen to it more than sound. I am every
ear that’s ever heard. In fact, music listens to me.
I composed Mozart in case you didn’t know. Narcissus? Me?
No, I fell in love with my face far before he did. Instantly.
No one has ever fell in love with themselves as fast as I did.
Beautiful? I am the best beauty. I am the most beautiful me
that could ever be beautiful. More beautiful than an astronaut
seeing the earth from above. Never been to space. But I have
more of it. So much dark the dark can’t see. The stars? They ask,
Mr. Trump, how can you be lighter than light when you are so dark?
I win light. I won all of the light. I light all lights. And then there was light,
but first, there was my light. If you stacked all the stars ever on top of
each other, I would still be taller. Taller than a red giant,
my hair flaps across the universe. Speaking of big things, I like strong guys.
But no one is stronger than me. I am all arms flexed at once. I have never
been to a gym, but I lift the gyms. Bench-press buildings, the concrete can’t
believe it. It asks, Mr. Trump, how are you as big as a building?
Let me tell ya, buildings are scaled after me. I am the most building
a building could be. Bob the Builder? Better than him. Built the economy.
Built this country before it was a country. I built the world before god did.
He asks, Mr. Trump, how can you build better than me? I said god, I am
the god that asked god for another god and got me before I was a god.
Boy, did he agree. I am the answer to every question. I am all answers.
No answer could answer an answer better than me. Right? Names?
I know them. I have one actually. No one has a name like mine.
If everything ever had to have a name, it would be mine.
I named names. I knew my name before I was named. They ask,
Mr. Trump, how could you be so smart? I say I don’t need smarty-pants,
I am smart in regular ones. More genius than any genius.
Every genius ever has said, wow, Trump sure knows how to be a genius.
He wins genius. Boy, do I win huh? I won before winning
was winning. When I win, I win twice. Winning wins me.
Winning asks, Mr. Trump, have you ever lost? I say I have never
known loss. I lost loss, forever. I could only lose to myself, and I
never lose. Never been lost either. Always know where I am.
Compasses got their directions from me. More north than penguins.
More south than upside-down penguins. More west than the sun,
it rises after me. Not even the east has as beautiful sunsets as me.
My face is a sunset. Oranges ask, Mr. Trump, how can you be more
orange than us? I say I’m so orange people could juice and drink me.
Best orange juice you could ever have. If oranges could drink orange
juice, they would drink my juice, not theirs. More orange than the
sun and twice as bright. I burn the sun, it doesn’t burn me. I’ll tell ya,
if the sun doesn’t stop its solar tantrums, I will fire it with fire.
We don’t need it, we have tanning beds. Tanning beds ask me, Mr. Trump,
how can you lay in us for so long? I am the best at being horizontal.
Nothing is more horizontal than me. l can lay and lay, no one can lay
for as long as I lay. The dead ask me from their graves, Mr. Trump,
how can you possibly lay longer than us? I tell them that I would never
let death catch me. Anyone who dies, well they shouldn’t have. Though if I die,
I would die way better than anyone has ever died. The grim reaper would retire,
say that was the best death I have ever seen. So, let’s make America
great again and again and again and again, but time? I have all of time
in my hands. Time times me. I own time. Time travels through me.
Clocks think I am great. They ask, Mr. Trump, how can you know every law
that has ever existed, and order so much McDonald’s, you shit out golden arches?
I tell em I know laws, I know the best laws. Laws follow me. I give orders to order.
No one is more orderly than me. Chaos doesn’t exist because I ordered it not to.
I’m the greatest president of all time, aren’t I? 

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