There really isn’t anybody who I want a war with,
Since I’ve worked so very hard and tried establishing rapport with
Every autocrat and dictator, each tyrant and each despot,
Despite campaigns of oppression from which they will not give respite.
Now – I’m stuck between a rock and yet another place unyielding.
Saudis call the shots; the upper hand I don’t seem to be wielding
As I wait for proof definitive regarding this rogue drone strike,
And the price of gas is heading for a heights-still-yet-unknown spike.
While the heads of both Defense and State choose not to pull their punches,
I continue to insist I won’t take action based on hunches.
While Iran appears to be behind destruction of the oil fields,
I don’t want to tip my hand and run the risk that I might spoil deals.
Since withdrawing from the nuclear accord that we’d agreed to,
Our relationship’s contentious; peace no longer guaranteed through
Lifting economic sanctions in return for their concession
To slow down their work on weapons used for nuclear aggression.
In discussions with the Saudis, seems my role is an eternalist:
I glorify their Crown Prince, even though he killed a journalist.
But bygones should be bygones. I’ll be downright deferential
As I let them call the shots, acceding my role presidential.
Will we go to war against Iran? So far, I’m being cagey
In announcing our response. But still, whatever fight we wage, we
Will be measured, sober, level-headed; that’s how I would summarize –
Unless Crown Prince bin-Salman tells me I should handle otherwise.
The Trump Poems 