by Orel Protopopescu

He takes a swing at Hillary
when feeling lost or off his game.
He doesn’t need artillery.
A thumb will do. He has no shame.

Polls under par? Balls out of bounds?
Then why not hit her in the back?
His base adores the way it sounds,
the whoosh! each time he takes a whack.

Teed off by Mueller’s iron grip,
he searches through his bag of fun
for phantom clubs to let her rip—
this madman, cheat, a-hole-in-one.