Omarosa was once Don’s dear and trusted adviser,
So what is it she’s done to make him despise her?
Well, since she’s been fired shes written a tell-all book,
A record of the colorful conversations in which he partook.
She says he used the nasty word, he denies all such dialogue
And now they’re rolling in the gutter fighting like cat and dog,
There sure ain’t no love lost between these old erstwhile friends
As manners go down the drain, into the swamp decorum descends.
Again the sly old dog digs into his trusty grab-bag of dirty tricks,
Don knows of old how to put the squeeze on low, lying chicks-
Yet his catastrophic brush with Bush on the bus gives him pause-
Best hope his big bad bark will cause her to withdraw her claws.
As Ivanka frenziedly re-edits every episode in ‘The Apprentice’
Shifty-eyed Ms Huckabee says Omarosa is non compos mentis,
But parroting weasel words leaves Huckabee unutterably sad,
She’s found it’s the old hound who is utterly barking mad.
Vlad To The Bone. (Apologies to George Thorogood.)
When two princes amongst men met up in Helsinki
Both promised, vowed, swore a swear with extended pinky
To put aside that old veil of dark secrecy, so deep, black and inky;
If Vlad’s pants look uncomfortably hot, don’t Dons seem a whiff stinky?
In a most comradely fashion the two privately conversed,
When they emerged into the light, all dark clouds dispersed,
Donald smiling dimly,Vladimir’s smile smug, satisfied, fit to burst,
How did Vlad contrive to convince Don to put ‘Meric- err… Russia First?
Don’s dishing out presidential pardons willy-nilly,
Forgiving old felonious friends at will and at whim,
But mention faithful old Mueller and Don grows chilly-
Chances of Don forgiving Bob are infinitesimally slim.
Questions of his hot Stormy affair are also met frostily
As his ardour and memories of her mammaries begin to dim,
So Don won’t dismiss Ms Kardashians request as frivolously silly,
Though part of the deal will be having to twerk for it, Kim.
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.
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?
Don’s taken his Medical and he has passed
Despite his penchant for eating his food fast,
He thinks he cuts a, if not fine, an imposing figure
Which he’s assiduosly working at making even bigger.
His trusted Doctor says Don is doing GreaT,
He’s given his grateful President a clean slate,
Don fairly flew through a test specifically designed
For a President possessing his particular state of mind.
All the Doc asks is for Don to take more exercise-
Forgo his nightly regime of stretching for french fries-
Normally Don wouldn’t pay heed to a White House minion
But one thing Donald doesn’t need is a damn second opinion.
No Doctors orders for Don when he takes to his bed,
He retains his healthy appetite for ordering in instead,
There’s nothing that makes another sub-par day complete
Than a tasty treat of fried chicken, followed by a greasy tweet.
For all those worried if Donald’s not fit for work, do not be concerned,
The resident genius has been checked out, nothings been discerned,
The McDon is good to go, in brain, heart and other vital body parts,
Its a bona fide medical miracle, with his cholesterol off the charts.
A few do accuse our great President of no work and all play
Yet for Donald signing off on the fifteenth has been no holiday,
It’s grim indeed to see him publicly straining to stick to the script;
Words that, self evidently, privately would leave Trump tight lipped.