by David Hedges
As with every move The Donald’s made,
His pick for envoy to the Holy See
Defies credulity. It’s retrograde
To taunt the Pontiff with impiety.
Forethought ordains an envoy versed in God,
A diplomat whose creds are Simon-pure.
Why did Callista Gingrich get the nod?
Was she the only soul he could procure,
A cinch to gain Republican acclaim?
The third and so far current wife of Newt,
The flake who flipped and flopped his way to fame
As Speaker of the House of Ill Repute,
Callista was his mistress, an escape
From holy matrimony’s bonds. The Pope
is bound to get his nose bent out of shape.
What does The Donald take him for, a dope?
This Shepherd isn’t one to fleece his flock
Or plunder nations to assuage caprice.
Unlike The Donald, Francis walks his talk
And has a pipeline to the Prince of Peace.
Is Trump rewarding Naughty Newt because
He flogged Bill Clinton for the escapade
With Monica (despite no broken laws),
While he himself played footsie with an aide,
None other than Callista? Their affair
Was overlooked upon The Hill, though why,
God only knows. (Why would reporters care,
When they had Bill, a bigger fish, to fry?)
Number Two was mistress when the first
Of Newt’s three wives was licit. Number Four
Might well be waiting in the wings to burst
Upon the scene through Newt’s revolving door.
This theory may illuminate the deal
Newt cut: “You send Callista off to Rome,
While I stay home to test my sex appeal.
She’ll be content to climb Saint Peter’s Dome.”