Privately Barnaby and Vikki do make a pretty pair;
Publicly Barnaby brazenly faces the public glare,
His amorous amoral view he is happy to share-
As a politician he wonders why his public should care
About his peccadilloes when they’re his private affair?
Yet another school shooting in Florida leaves us numb,
From the President the prayers and platitudes come,
More fretting and flapping of Trumpian gums
Followed by a frenzy of twittering thumbs.
Don is rightly upset about what some crazed kid has done,
Though the conclusion he arrives at sure is a strange one,
Oh so many sorrowful words for lost daughters and sons;
And not one single syllable about the madness of guns?
Barnaby Joyce is one hell of a guy,
Well, a hell of a politician, few can deny,
He has stepped out on his wife and four kids,
Blame ‘True Love’ not lust, for a career on the skids.
Will his conservative voters forgive his moral flaws?
Shouldn’t a Catholic living in carnal sin not give him pause?
Siring a secretary’s sprog out of wedlock’, he’s pushing it, rather.
Sadly, Barnaby can’t help it if his new kid has a bastard for a father.
As the stock market hit astronomical heights
Donald loudly and proudly took bragging rights,
Came February First and the worm began to turn;
Walls and Wall Street falling cause Don grave concern.
You know The Donald’s feeling sick
When he turns down the rhetoric.
Suddenly Donald’s loquacious lip is zipped,
His air as morose as that at the family crypt,
Donald’s brown study is as silent as a tomb,
A place of rare quiet contemplation, we assume?
Donald is rarely at a loss for something to say,
But Trump stock falling takes his breath away.
When Don’s face and the Dow continued to drop
His self-congratulatory words trundled to a stop,
From the Oracle, the one true prophet comes ‘nary a peep,
Dons sycophants wonder how long he’ll let his dumbness creep?
With his ego though, the silence will be all too brief,
But hasn’t this pause come as a blessed relief?