I’m back on the podium; that’s where I belong,
in front of a socially-distanced press throng.
The ratings, I’m certain, will turn out incredible.
Just me on the stage; no supporting cast medical.
Behind me are two screens, and that’s where the slides are.
(I’m not making off-the-cuff comments or sidebars.)
I’ll reference the tables seen on those projections,
and will not discuss disinfectant injections.
My posture on masks I intend to reverse,
and I’ll point out before things improve, they’ll get worse.
I’ll brag about numbers that prove inexact
and say young folks should stay out of bars that are packed.
I’ll mention the term “China virus” when speaking
about several regions where cases are peaking.
I’ll push back against those who claim I can’t hack it,
and magically pull a mask out of my jacket.
I’ll take a few questions, but not very many;
I don’t want the Fake News to say, “Once again, he
made outrageous statements,” or text to an editor,
“He offered support to a loathsome sex predator.”
If all goes quite well as I stage my return
then I might introduce just one other concern:
If you vote for Joe Biden, I think you’re a chump. So,
I’m glad to proclaim, “Welcome back to The Trump Show!”
The Trump Poems 