The Misfortunes of SuperCuck – a Trans-diversity, Pro-gendered SJW

Cartoon by Ryan Fletcher

Poem by XYZ Resident Poet, Steve B.

The Trumped world was in a perilous state
As in the balance hung the fate
Of tranny terrorism and cis-phobic fear
The Marxist Bastille’s end was near.

But from the rubble emerged their hero
Whose credibility was somewhere near zero
Whose moral fortitude was mired in the muck
The name of their idol was SuperCuck.
A hypocritical moronic leftist schmuck
Whose virtue signalling became unstuck
Whenever reality came out to play
Spoiling his equality diversity day.

‘Curse that Frog who transmogrifies
Exposing my words as a pack of shameless lies
And all the followers of XYZ
Who offend me with cis-normal thoughts in their head.
All I want to do is celebrate diversity
Using the logic of same same perversity
And welcome the caliphate with open arms
To express my admiration for jihadi charms

Because I’m not a violent fascist you see
Oh, only to those with whom I disagree
But that’s OK, because we’re fighting
To stop the nasty Alt-Right from lighting
A beacon that will surely expose
That us leftists all wear panty hose
And lay bare all our hypocritical farce
That proves our logic is jammed firmly in our arse.’

So SuperCuck called up all society’s weevils
Hypocrites, nut-jobs and wrong-headed evils,
Nazis for femdom, lezzos on bongs
Even enlisting the Sisters With Shlongs.
They tried to hold our XYZ to account;
But the Mighty Green Frog did powerfully mount
A counter strike that had them all beat
And thumped their butts with his mighty green feet.

The straw wall of lies SuperCuck and his fools
Had built with feet of clay and illiterate mules
Was smashed, broken and strewn asunder
Destroyed by the Green Frog’s mighty thunder

Thus SuperCuck and his minions were conquered and stomped
The shame of defeat over them romped,
Plaguing their senses (or lack of) for many a day
And our XYZ still lights the way…

But like a wicked smell, SuperCuck will be back
Changing his tune and angle of attack
And just like a bad dose of the Marxist mange
His agenda, like his spots: they will never change.