After a week of sulking, Don does the write thing. Sorta.

Please Explain Letter.

The Republicans received this letter, signed and sealed,
Its creased and crumpled contents can now be revealed;
A missive from the President that actually appealed?

'My loyal friends, some think Your President may have erred,
Given a speech that rabble-roused, not patriotically stirred,
It's my sworn duty to tell you 'That's not what I heard."

'My Great impromptu speech fairly rattled along,
It's possible I may have come on a little strong,
But dare I say, few with me will say I did anything wrong.'

'I'm obliged to say I did not rashly stir up that crowd,
But Boys, if you do trash talk let's make it loud and Proud,
And everyone knew I meant 'Only peaceful protesting allowed."

'Some days when my loyal crowd is baying
'Midst the banners waving and the spittle spraying
They might not hear my plea- hear what I'm saying?'

'Naturally, I'd like to say I filled a Presidential role,
I even said I'd join em on a quiet downtown stroll,
I'd heard that mob was well acquainted with Con/troll.'

'I thought at the Capitol they were bound to halt;
Words failed me when I saw 'em up and revolt,
Anyways, what I can say is 'That ain't my fault."

'As they slid into anarchy so did my heart  lift sink,
After years of dog-whistling and tipping the wink
Who am I to call out that mob, tell 'em what to think?'

'We all know when I go off my Scripts I tend to be blunt
But the backsliding from you I take as a personal affront,
C'mon, we know I've still time to conduct my own Witch Hunt.'

'So, my trusted friends, lets laugh off this vote to impeach,
I'll try to clean up the excesses of my all-too free speech;
Since you all swallowed that joke I injected about bleach.'

'Once we all sang from the same song sheet,
Your constant chorus of praise rang so sweet,
Now I don't hear a peep, not one damned tweet.'

'Sorry if my sorry speech caused you sorrow
But I hope 'n' pray you'll say Right by me tomorrow,
And by the way, anyone got a Bible I can borrow?'

As Don's  'unlawfully dishonourable' judgement nears
By a jury of, Donald could never say, of his peers,
Another letter of explanation- in Capitals- appears...

'My Followers, though you and I are Much Maligned
NO Lawlessness, NO Vandalism NO Violence of Any Kind.'
A better letter would have simply said he's resigned.

If there's one thing Don can still flat-out refuse
It's believing in a crazy world  where he can lose,
He remains deeply, thickly fixed in his fake views.

'Nancy's talk of impeachin' me is nasty, not nice,
MAGA friends, might this half-hearted apology suffice?
Or must I humbly beg your pardon twice?'

‘Householder, Payment overdue!’

©Obbverse

At last, the long awaited cure for the dreaded affliction of Foot to Mouth disease.

Hush a Bye Bye/ Potus Gets The Message.

First, my electoral defeat-
That left me a tad downbeat,
Struck dumb by shock, sad to say,
'Twas indeed a dark blue/grey day...
But now I had grievous cause to bleat
About the GreatesT ever electoral cheat!

Lies, all lies, but lies I'll happily repeat,
Easily flicked out by a simple tweet,
But now I read, with deep dismay
They took my tweet voice away!
Where fantasy and fable meet!
Now my misery is complete.

‘Not Twitter! No, not that! Ach, the inhumanity!”

On the road again; let’s follow as the Prez speeds recklessly on to open up his stalled economy. Arriving at a hushed Ford assembly plant Don gets out and starts to push his well worn agenda.

Thing’s To Do In Ypsilanti When You’re Don.

Go up to Michigan,
Speak at some Ford plant,
Blame some Democrat, bitch again;
Usual unhinged rave and rant.

Typical meet and greet,
Broadly mug and smugly beam
While firing off another Waspish tweet;
Don’t my pearly wisdoms gleam?

Won’t wear no mask
Though it’s obviously more hygienic,
But this GreaT President’s overriding task
Is to remain nakedly photogenic.

 

©Obbverse

Donald, his White House Christmas and me. Merry Christmas Mr President!

Screaming Memememe.

I’m sat at the White House, all alone,
Oh, poor pitiful me,
Just me, at Christmas, I with my phone,
Oh, poor lonesome me.

Being Prez ain’t all tinsel and glitter
Even for wonderful me,
All I have is my GreaT thoughts and Twitter
To accompany me…

Yes, I’m missing out on Melania’s home-cooked meal
Which disagrees with me,
But fortuitously, I’ve worked out a hell of a deal
‘Tween McDonalds and me.

This Christmas I’ve no Kelly, no Mattis
To stifle magnificent me
On troops, policy and other trifling matters,
Oh, impulsive impetuous me.

Here I’m free from their ever-ongoing discussion
That soooooo bores me,
They might as well talk turkey in Chinese- or Russian,
It’s all Greek to me.

Here I’m free of constraints from one and all,
Free to think of only me,
As governments shut down, and my stocks fall
I sit here and ponder at the wonder about me.

 

©Obbverse

Trumps new target, basketballs LeBron James- This is going to be less a genteel game, more a free-for-all.

Textbook Play.

Is Donald a good sport when it comes to fun and games?
Not when he’s going tweet to tweet with LeBron James,
Don fakes, he twists, he spins to the Right- true to form;
Again poor sport Don has started a pointless twit storm.

 

©Obbverse

Forget about six degrees of separation, Don does a yet another 180 degree spin. Double-speak strikes again!

Don’s Signature Magic Marker.

Don’t dare cross Dons unwelcoming border,
You’re crossing his line and his express order,
Donald wants your sort kept South of the wall,
He has zero sympathy for illegals, large or small.

But after Don separates mother and child
He finds he has zero tolerance for being reviled,
When his borderline cruelty becomes a national disgrace
Donald turns to his his rarely used caring compassionate face…

What was impossible for Don to rescind yesterday
With one wave of the presidential pen becomes child’s play,
If his freewheeling back-flips make his tweets hard to follow
How much tougher are his foot-in-mouth missteps to swallow?

©Obbverse

Once again The Don strains the heights of ego driven belief; He is one doozy of a deluded President.

Pardon My Presumption?

The poor hard done-by hounded witch-hunted president
is grateful his big-shot New York shyster lawyer’s so prescient,
Rudy completely agrees with what Don’s said all along-
The president, or at least this one, can do no wrong.

There’s only one verdict that’s reachable,
This presidents word is unimpeachable.

Should some scandal appear wherin Don might be involved
Don can be pardoned by the president, and problem absolved!
It matters not one jot what evidence Mueller eventually presents,
Giuliani’s ‘Get Out Of Jail’ card gives his client a rock-solid defence.

God knows its a delusion to think he’ll ever resign
Now Don knows to err is human, to forgive, divine.

©Obbverse

Donald on the down-low; Stormy Daniels getting the cash, McCabe getting the push. Who says Don is a petty President?

Lies In The Eyes Of The Beholder.

Donald was all for political leaks
In the elections frantic final weeks,
Then a whistle-blower was a patriot,
Now Donald is President, they’re not.

Since Donald’s butt is in the hot seat
All he does is bleat and Tweet,
Now Donald’s no whistle-blowers friend,
Demanding all this disloyalty must end.

Andy McCabe spoke out of turn
And is the latest one to learn
That Donald brooks no dissension
If you want to collect your pension.

Yes, it’s best for you to stay mute
About Donald and some massively cute
Woman he came accross on the golf course;
Don doesn’t want to cough up for a divorce.

No, best to keep that story hushed,
Don might emerge red and flushed,
When it comes to a marital moral lapse
Don is keen to keep it all under wraps.

Dons lawyer has done his expensive best
For Stormy to keep it close to her expansive chest;
Could Melania believe its all a storm in a double DD cup?
Don should’ve busted the bank to stop this going ti-… belly up.

©Obbverse

Rex Tillerson and Donald Trump, a parting of the ways. Who’d have thunk it?

Such Sweet Sorrow.

It’s goodbye to Rex, ex Secretary of State,
The latest to find Don’s America ain’t so great,
He suspected Mueller, not he, would be going next,
But the Great Man fired him, and predictably, by text.

Could that be a tic twitching on his cheek?
From a weary eye do we see a teardrop leak?
How bravely Rex strains to remain comported
But his mask of a face seems strangely contorted.

Does old Rex look sad and forlorn?
Perhaps it’s my eyes, but I could’ve sworn
That only yesterday Rex looked much older,
A man bent of back and stooped of shoulder.

We haven’t seen this face of Rex for a while,
That glum morose face enlightened by a smile,
He used to always flash that slick oily smile once:
Where’s it been hiding for the last fourteen months?

©Obbverse