Thursday, February 25, 2016

Robert Cooperman- A Poem


President-Elect Trump To Live in His Own Penthouse, Not the White House

Why would I want to live in a dump
with ghetto rats gnawing the walls?  
I’ve got a huge penthouse, decked out in gold.  
Besides, I could never trust the staff;
they served the Muslim, and might want
jihad for me proving he’s a Kenyan devil;
just look at his doctored birth certificate;
the same guy forged Cruz’s.

I’d spend half my time in office
interviewing replacement employees,
and though it would’ve been a charge to point,
“You’re fired,” or in this case, “Don’t call us,
we’ll call you!”  (Imagine the TV ratings!  
But I’d have no time to get tough with Putin
and whatever schmucks run China and ISIS)

all things considered—I hate that show,
first thing I do is cut off their funding—
I’ll live at home; besides, I can’t wait to see
Cruz’s hissy-fit when my “New York values”
kick that whining Canadian’s ass.”  

New Yorkers love me, the Mexicans love me,
the blacks, the Jews, the Muslims, and Orientals
all love me, and of course the white, real Americans
love me most of all, for sticking up for them
when the whole world’s turned against us.

2 comments:

  1. Politic satire is difficult since Swift but you have
    achieved a fine target on the bull's eye. Congrats!

    ReplyDelete
  2. And where it stops no one knows....

    ReplyDelete