Last week, there I was at the Christmas tree lighting.
A moment of joy and hail-fellow-well-met.
A short break from tweets, but then I resumed fighting
With foes, while I’m breaking into a cold sweat.
Mueller, of course, has long been on my shit list;
He’s flipping so many that you need a chart.
With Cohen, it’s clear, I am more than a bit pissed:
He’s quite a weak person, and not very smart.
My man Roger Stone, with back-tattoo of Nixon,
I praised as a person who still has some “guts.”
He thinks, as do I, Mueller’s team’s got the fix in –
Never mind that ol’ Roger’s best known as a putz.
The tweets, once again, coming out fast and furious,
And some are now claiming I’ve gone a step too far.
Tampering with witnesses? Lawyers are curious;
Kellyanne’s husband’s made known what his views are.
While the world waits to see just what Mueller discloses,
I’m wrestling this bull(shit) by both of its horns.
You know, being POTUS is no bed of roses:
That’s why I’m constructing this crown made of thorns.
The Trump Poems 