by David Hedges

“The Pure American Banality of Donald Trump’s White House Fast-Food Banquet”
—The New Yorker

As Lincoln ponders on the wall
Above the splendid venue,
Little Donnie stands in thrall
At having planned the menu—

The silly grin that splits his face,
The tiny hands, the hair,
The table stacked beyond disgrace
With Donnie’s favorite fare,

Big Macs, fries, Filet-O-Fishes,
Enough to feed an army,
Calories beyond all wishes.
Donnie’s gone plumb barmy.

“Look at me,” he spouts with glee,
“I’ve scored another coup!”
The Clemson Tigers take a knee.
Chacun à son goût.