Young Donald is so very bigly hoping
that he can rest his fat golden *** in
the Queen's oh so golden carriage
when he visits those green, green lands
as he's used to sitting on golden stuff
& it makes him feel so very ...
special & important,

he's instructed his minions to pull strings
twist arms & just plain plead for this to be
allowed as he is just all pumped about the
idea of sticking his big orange head out of
the golden carriage so as he can wave to
the adoring multitudes,

it might even be better than the time they
allowed him to sit in that big, big truck &
toot that big, big horn ...

oh my is he excited.

Me ... I hope there's a riotous seething mob
that makes the storming of the bastille look
like a rowdy friday night at the pub,
but me,

I guess I'm just a dreamer.