I’ve got a host of lawyers who are representing me;
All standing at the ready, poised for entering a plea.
I’m quite well-represented for all kinds of jurisprudence:
Contract law, and bankruptcy, and moral turpitudence.
I’ve got so many lawyers on this, and then still more on that.
I’ve even got a handful working on the porn star spat.
My guy who paid her off now has his own representation,
All stemming from a meeting she says went beyond flirtation.
The latest legal eagle who might sign up to defend me
Would quickly pounce if they pursue impeachment to upend me.
He represented Clinton during his moment of pillory.
I called Bill for a reference; no word back. I’ll email Hillary.
Ty Cobb, John Dowd, Jay Sekulow coordinate their cases:
Like when Tinker threw to Evers threw to Chance, around the bases.
But even if they manage to pull off a triple play,
I do not think this “Russia thing” is going to go away.
One lawyer says let’s it wrap up; another: let it play out.
Each day I dig in deeper, and they try to find a way out.
I had to bring them in once headlines read, “Sessions Recuses.”
They haven’t served me well – my nickname for them: the Three Stooges.
My team and I have made sure all of Justice will resent us.
If Paul Manafort flips, then I’ll just plead non compus mentis.
Bob Mueller is formidable; not sure my guys can handle.
But if I move to fire him, I won’t survive that scandal.
The Trump Poems 