by David Hedges
Dear Vladimir, my bosom buddy Vlad,
The Faux News media have found me out.
I fear my situation’s looking bad.
My re-election chances are in doubt.
I’ve danced whenever you have pulled my strings,
Turned allies into foes and foes to friends,
Stirred discontent at home, and other things.
Your rubles have paid handsome dividends.
I may request asylum—are you on?
Your faithful and devoted servant, Don
Dear Donald, Comrade Don as you prefer,
I take it you are seeking my support.
You’re found out as a phony—a poseur.
I’d like to help, but I’m a little short.
The world is being primed for Russian rule.
My oligarchs and I have work to do.
We’ll find another dupe who’ll play the fool.
Truth is, we have no further use for you.
No hair spray, dressed in orange—be of good cheer
In prison! Do svidaniya, Vladimir