by Wayne Self
We must write a poem for the incoming POTUS
So he’ll take to Twitter and gladly promote us.
We’ll flatter his heritage, he’ll be so proud
When we call him Domhnall, the best of MacLeod!
Lost all its mettle did poor academia,
Now unironically dead from anemia.
So we’ll use our letters, while they’re still allowed,
To tell of his virtues, the best of MacLeod!
To show what awaits all his foes in good time,
We’ll cut off a meter and torture a rhyme.
We’ll use “ye” and “ne’er” so when it’s read aloud,
It’ll sound mighty fancy, that’s best for MacLeod!
We’ll call women harridans--curse all their eyes!--
With prose that shows trap-flapping's also for guys.
We’ll uncork the verse of the scraping, the bowed,
And abjectly pour out our best for MacLeod!
We’ll curse for a tyrant the duly Elected,
And cheer for the Chosen, of treason suspected.
We’ll honor the dunce cap and dance with the shroud,
To indulge and defer to the best of MacLeod!
Yes, fawn and yes flatter this draft-dodging wussy,
Call him the best, yea, this grabber of pussy,
Best? Easy quest midst the under-endowed.
If this Viscount of Piss is the best of MacLeod!
Power, we’ll give him, to know evil men.
We’ll wish our towns richer, since men rhymes with “ten.”
We’ll call him a builder, for so he’s avowed,
We’ll make him a god, this best of MacLeod!
In his egomania, he'll surely notice,
Rewarding our toadying up to the POTUS.
We’ll be poet laureate, they'll wonder “how’dHe do it?” We just got the best of MacLeod!
(That was my response to the fact that some "celebrated" poet wrote a poem to honor Trump's inauguration that's been making the rounds on Facebook. )