That Open Infectious Smile.
Here’s a question too few Trump flunkies dare to ask;
‘Mr President Sir, why don’t you deign to don a mask?’
Even when Mr doting lap-dog Vice-President Pence
Says wearing a protective mask makes Great sense?
Now, covering up old affairs Don sees as only sensible,
No-one, certainly not Don, wants to look reprehensible.
Don believes his cherub-cheeked face is his shining glory,
That his sunny saintly smile can sell any half-assed story.
See, he wants his words to ring out strong and clear,
To spread his sick sad soliloquies into the atmosphere.
Ask about his taxes though, and he draws the veil,
When it comes back to taxes, privacy must prevail.
Don has facts he’ll openly doctor, and grudges to nurse
So why would he mask the brightest star in his universe?
Donald wants to show his public the full-frontal view,
The fake tan, the pearly white teeth, the eyes o’ blue.
Squint below the tinted TRESemme-ed locked-down hair
And see what cold soulless depths lie deep down there?
But, clothing his mouth… nope, Don could never embrace it;
He’d look even more like a bandit in a bandana, let’s face it.
(Background theme for this could be Frank Zappa ‘I’m The Slime’. Just a thought, I’m in a whimsical mood today.)