Yesterday I had a real bad ouchie

And dreamt that I should call Dr. Faucci.

When I awoke, I couldn’t find his number

Then I fell into a troubled slumber

Where he morphed into a Zeus-Ian Pitt

Brandishing his bright scepter of knowledge

Mixing compassion with a brilliant wit

I wish they had taught Trump at college.

But they didn’t or he refused to learn.

Since Daddy footed for all of his bills

He did not ever have to anything earn

Surrounding himself with a bunch of shills.

I woke up chilled but in a pool of sweat.

Haven’t we shelved this shell of a man yet?


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©2020 by The Unknown Poet.