by James Hamby

He summoned all his courage,
Forced down his rising dread—
It takes a very special man
To talk smack of the dead.

But Trump remained undaunted
And meant each word he’d said—
He didn’t give a second thought
About insulting the dead.

He feared no specter rising,
No revenant’s empty bed,
Nor even a zombie apocalypse—
No rising of the dead.

All hail our fearless chief,
Our nation’s valiant head!
Although he quails before the truth
He doesn’t fear the dead!