I have made a fortune in real estate
Now I meet with Monarchs and heads of state
I golf at Mar-a Lago, drink at the bar,
Lord knows, I drive a golf ball very far.

But now a cloud hangs over my head
There is a comparison with Watergate it is said
But my relation with Putin is exceptionally fine
For he sends me a ***** instead of wine.

Oh Lord, you led Moses to the promised land
Through dry deserts and the Red sea
What must I do to make to make America great again
As a great, as great as me.

Trump and Brexit,
Two beautiful scrolls in a sync
Singing a song of white nationalism
On the crest in the Ivy League station,
Busy Muffling the **** drop sounds
On the bowls of foot-loose beggars,
A lesson for you dark son of Africa
That tomfoolery is no defense before
The rational altar of Trump and Brexit
Riding on followership’s bitter hangover
For the Nostalgia of the waning  glory,
Sired by Machiavelli, groomed by ******,
Festooned by Mussolini into a Jim Crow tor,
But fault not them, that is politics or religion,
Always sweet only in full gear of power-piety,
Then Nurture your tiny ***** for no pawn earns it,
To pile your wood for pharaonic winter is obvious
In paranoia of Brexit and Trumpish megalomania
Coming in a stampede with Tigre’s thorax, only
To worry us for nothing as it is the fear of change
Truly, they are not the first clouds in the sky
Of global terror and politics of self-idolatry,
Soon to vamoose in service to their nature
Of aureate appearing to whimpering fade,

I dreamed there was an UN-inauguration.
Peeking through the clouds, the frowning sun
Cast its rays upon the crowds below,
Perplexing and confounding everyone.

Donald Trump walked onto the platform,
Adjusting with his hands his golden thatch.
In the bleachers sat his buddy Putin,
Wily smiling, the two a perfect match.

The National Mall was split right down the middle.
Less than half of the crowd was loudly cheering.
All the rest were unmistakably
More enthusiastic in their jeering.

All of a sudden, the dark clouds parted.
A pillar of light descended from above.
Everyone could see that spiraling downward
Was the image of an ivory dove.

The dove transformed into a real person.
There stood Hillary Clinton on the stage!
Trump, whose eyes were shooting darts of fire,
Flew into his usual Trumpish rage.

A thunderous voice shook the Capitol steps.
The startled people jumped when they heard "STOP!"
Everybody waited in suspense,
Wondering when the ball was going to drop.

“This nonsense can't go on!” thundered the voice.
“A slight change—call it a correction—
Must fix improprieties that hurt
The integrity of your last election.”

Angelic voices filled the wintry air
As shouts of anger turned to happy cheers.
Trump and friends sauntered off the platform.
Bitterly they wiped away their tears.

Kellyanne Conway, puffed up with hot air,
Swirled away like a deflating balloon.
General Flynn got down on all fours
And turned into a blabbering baboon.

Steve Bannon also underwent
A sudden transformation, quite befitting:
He turned into a snake and slithered away
Past the seat where Eric Trump was sitting.

Putin’s face showed great disappointment.
The crafty leader couldn't understand
How his plans had backfired. He joined Trump.
They walked off together, hand in hand.

A blissful light enveloped everybody.
That was when I woke up from my dream
And had to face what was going to be
A harsh reality: a Trump regime.

- by Bob B (1-18-17)