by David Hedges
I feel I’m wedded to the Bride
Of Frankenstein. My honeymoon
Is like a roller-coaster ride,
A bruising bouncy-bounce inside
A runaway hot-air balloon
Inflated only by the steam
I vent at those who disagree
With how I’m running my regime,
Those Never Trumps of academe,
Those Faux News chumps who squeal with glee
And fill the mainstream air with lies,
Those double-dealing Democrats
Who demonize free enterprise
And block my hard-earned Nobel Prize—
Greta and her snot-nosed brats.
I send my flyboys off to battle
To let the world know I’m in charge.
I grind the bones of those who tattle;
There’s not a cage that I can’t rattle.
My hands and other things are large.
So here this virus comes by stealth
And puts my Wall Street claims in doubt.
I say to hell with public health,
I’m more concerned with private wealth.
Vlad’s not about to bail me out.
In fact, he’s driving down the price
Of crude oil right before I stand
For re-election. That’s not nice!
I can’t afford to roll the dice.
This thing is getting out of hand.