Sonnet 116 (a cuckservative parody)

Let me not to the malformation of minds

Admit impediments. “Right” is not right

Which alters not when it alteration finds.

A true conservative bends to each new blight:

Oh yay! He is an ever-moving mark

That looks on teapots and is always shaken;

He is a cur groveling ‘fore its (((master’s))) bark,

Whose worth’s undone, though money he’s rakin’!

The Right’s Time’s fool, for blonde curls and cheeks

To the Browning’s sickle he gladly submits;

He scorns advantage to take of Hillary’s leaks,

And when Trump’s numbers surge, he calls it quits.

Is the “Right” wrong? Yet though it be proved

From his cuck stoll he won’t be willingly moved.



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