You know, I was never a fan of McCain;
The thought of that senator brings me great pain.
He did one thing, after another he said –
Quite frankly, it’s better for all that he’s dead.
A fan of the senator’s I’ll never be;
Right down to my core, I have got no esprit.
That thumbs-down he offered, it cost us a trillion.
I wish he’d been busted right down to civilian.
My feelings are something I’m not trying to hide –
This fellow was someone I could not abide.
He screwed up my chance for repeal and replace
So, even in death, I am still on his case.
Last in his class, still – a grad from Annapolis.
Captured in ‘Nam, where the guards had to shackle his
Body and force him for five years to dwell there.
None of that matters; he fucked me on healthcare.
Why show such contempt for a man who’s deceased?
Display some respect for the dead here, at least?
Why do I tweet and keep casting aspersions?
Simple – I need to create some diversions.
I’ve got more troubles than John ever knew:
My budget’s based on ersatz revenue;
Economy’s starting to show signs of slowing;
Investigations against me ongoing.
Rather than stopping – since I have my druthers,
I launch attacks on that guy and some others.
Tweeting how I’ve been harassed and maligned:
All this suggests I’ve gone out of my mind.
The Trump Poems 