He Lives in a Morass

He lives in a morass
of litigation. It is just
his way of life. Out
go the invitations:
“Have at me, if you will;
I then will sue you,
my coffers to fill.
I am your new leader;
sue me if you wish;
and like a bug, you
will go squish
under the feet of my
smarmy army of attorneys
who keep me safe
on my sleazy journeys.
I will treat you
with utter disdain
and blow you away
like a single, little,
insignificant speck of grain.
Look to me, all you
miserable, tail-ends
of an ass.
I tell you America will be
great again, but
I will sink you
in a slimy morass
from which you
will not be able
to extricate your
big, dumb, unwashed bottom.
You see I am quite awesome.
I don’t drink
and I don’t chew
and I don’t go
with girls who do.
I don’t curse
and I don’t lie
and if I do,
I hope to die.
Just kidding.
I really don’t
know what to do except
play golf at Mar-A-Lago
every week
and send out
mindless tweet after tweet
after tweet.
I’m just so bored
and at night in the
White House alone
I’m so scared.
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
I want the comfort
of Mr. Sandman
and if not him,
I will tweet sweet,
sweet Steve Bannon.”

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