I woke up in a foul mood this morning, could you tell?
I all but told Jeff Sessions that he ought to go to hell.
The memory of Manafort on my team barely lingers;
The only thing that’s shorter than his tenure are my fingers.
And yet with all the effort I put forth to create distance,
I turn around and slam the FBI for their persistence.
I even called Paul’s trial a “hoax” (preferred form of aspersion)
In case Bob Mueller comes for me; creating a diversion.
I claimed that Manafort’s been treated worse than Al Capone,
Since Paul sits there in solitary, broken and alone.
Comparisons between Alfonse and Paul seem superficial; is
There any speculation Manafort also has syphilis?
I shouted that the Mueller rigged witch hunt must stop right now
Before it stains our country, or I have another cow.
I threw in Peter Strzok and Lisa Page (I called her “lovely”),
To muddy up the evidence that comes out through discovery.
I claimed that I had not been told – it surely came as news to me –
That Manafort was crooked, and therefore he put the screws to me.
If only I’d been told that he was long under suspicion
I never would have hired him (20/20 rear-view vision).
I hope to keep my base riled up, and sow more seeds of doubt,
And try to save the midterms from a Democratic rout.
I say I’ve done no wrong, in language overt yet subliminal,
But yet I’m acting more and more like I’ve done something criminal.