If I were to leave the country – then wherever would I go?
I’d perhaps consider Norway but, of course, not Mexico.
Did I only mean the states (there’s 48) that are contiguous?
It wouldn’t be the first time I’d made statements found ambiguous.
If I rule out numbers 49 and 50, then my option
is which nation on the globe would choose to sponsor my adoption.
To give up my U.S. passport’s a decision rather weighty,
so I wouldn’t want to end up in some shithole place, like Haiti.
They’d have to have a golf course and McDonald’s. In addition,
I’d prefer to take up residence where there’s no extradition.
It will be quite an adjustment to my new life as an ex-pat.
Oh – another nice amenity: a club I could have sex at.
I now feel a twinge of empathy for people who are Black,
as I’ve claimed I love this country, but it may not love me back.
In this nation there’s no one more patriotic – notwithstandin’ it
appears a mere election loss suggests I would abandon it.
A man without a country; that’s become my backup plan.
Then you’ll see how the United States will do with one less man.
And there’s just one more criteria: I hope my new home lacks broad
regulation to set penalties if you’ve committed tax fraud.
The Trump Poems 