Delivering poetic justice during the Trump years.

If we stop testing now, we’d have very few cases.
If kings were the highest card, no need for aces.
If pigs could fly, we’d need a new source for bacon.
If you think I know what I’m doing – you’re mistaken.

If you avoid doctors, you’ll never get sick.
You’re the best ’til I fire you – and then you’re a prick.
If you don’t wear a mask, that’s your choice; I can’t force you.
I’m tweeting out racist tropes? That I of course knew.

If all shoes had Velcro, we wouldn’t need laces.
COVID-19 we’ve got down to mere traces.
My rally is safe – yet a waiver you must sign.
Don’t sweat, Oklahoma: I’m sure you’ll be just fine.

John Bolton has written a book of pure fiction.
His copious notes illustrate his depiction
How I hold an office for which I’m not fit.
By the way – Mike Pompeo thinks I’m full of shit.

Lately, it seems, I’ve become more erratic,
With plenty more bats nesting up in my attic.
Insisting all polls showing I am behind
Are in error just means: I am out of my mind.

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