Donald Trump holding a copy of the New York Times

Where You Lede, I Am Hollow

I love to brag about the awesome unemployment rate;
The numbers: fake before I won, but now they’re really great.
We’re doing so well that I can take some pleasure at the loss
Of journalists – Gannett, BuzzFeed and HuffPost – who’ve been tossed.

It’s clear that I’m no fan of the long-fabled “ink-stained wretch”:
Their dogged efforts in pursuit of facts just make me kvetch.
Those sources they won’t name, and yet they track down like a sleuth,
Can’t ever be believed – not even when they tell the truth.

Purveyors of the Fake News are all failing at their mission:
Reporting what I want them to; not of their own volition.
I believe in freedom of the press – unless they hurt you;
Then, just like unruly teens, they’re subject to a curfew.

All that I’ve accomplished hasn’t made sufficient headlines –
Last week’s news above the fold: “Fed Workers Stand in Bread Lines.”
I don’t give a Schitt if those reporters and their editors
Criticizing me lose jobs, and have to fend off creditors.

I’m doing well with every ethnic group across the board:
More people working means more MAGA hats they can afford.
Hispanics finding work are now partaking in our bounty.
(Unless they had jobs at my golf course in Westchester County).

I ratchet up attacks as my approval ratings plummet;
I’m less concerned with freedom of the press than freedom from it.
I believe in journalism’s role; they should be free to
Speak truth to my power – as long as it’s what I agree to.

Journalism’s highest law: Tell truth and shame the devil.
In loss of journalism jobs perhaps I should not revel.
Please tell those hacks I’ve victimized with various and sundry snubs:
They’re welcome to apply for roles now open at my country clubs.

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