(after A A Milne’s Sneezles)
30 January 2017

Donald the Trumper
Was destined
For ruin,
They made him
They gave him a pen
And a desk and a man
To look after the hair
On his head.
They wondered
If Donald
Could turn
Into Ronald
And just
Settle into
The role,
But in his first week
And a mild fit of pique,
He complained of the size of his poll.

He ordered his minions
To scour his dominions
For voters who voted
By fraud.
He said that a wall
Must be built and that all
Of the finance must come
From abroad.
He made some more notes
About fraudulent votes,
And he tweeted “The Press is unfair!
These guys should relax,
We’ve Alternative Facts
(And my taxes
Are my own affair).”

He said, “I now slam
All our doors
On Islam,
For Americans
Must be protected.”
He then sang a verse
Of America First
And decreed
All appeals
Be rejected.
He said, “There’s a crisis
With Isis
And I sez,
That I know
Which buttons
To push.
So trust me, I’m smarter
Than Clinton or Carter
Or Reagan, Obama…
Or Bush.”

Donald the Trumper
Got up in the morning,
The crisis had vanished away.
And the look in his eye
Seemed to say to the sky,
“Now, how to amuse them today?”