The Impostor’s Coronation
Twenty thousand-plus armed troops
Countless plainclothes thugs
And uniformed lowlives in groups
While agents lurked around as if they were selling drugs
Stonefaced, shamed-faced and shameless
Creatures in disguise stood guard around the site
Of a circus-like arena, the show on it as heinous
And just as sad as the defrauded nation’s plight
Hyenas howled: the freakish mummy puppet will be crowned
No matter what at the hijacked state’s most pompous ceremony
And courtiers pretend that it’s legit, and no one makes a sound
While the observers laugh at a scene so spurious and phony
Then, tje brainless mummy of a puppet is brought upon the stage
And regiments of troops protect it from its voters
(Some of them are zombies, others are just dead)
The usurper’s mummy is then propped up by its promoters
And dragged upon the podium, its visage filled with insolence and dread
And then they pull the strings, and the monstrosity begins to speak
While zombies on the flatscreens cheer, jeer, undazzled, unperturbed
The freakish mummy puppet’s head jerks and then with a sudden squeak
It utters hollowly – “Obey me. I am now the leader of the free world.”

Whether spelled imposter or impostor, the impostor election was no cause for celebration and the freakish mummy’s inaguration was a sham as we all know.
- Gustave Doré, Conseil tenu par les rats, 1867[↩]