DeSunktimonious

I’ve packed it in; I bid adieu.
I’m not the candidate for you –
or you – or you – or any person;
quit before my fortunes worsen.

Back to Florida I go,
dealing Nikki one last blow:
naming Donald my top fellow
(since my spine is made of Jell-O).

Here’s a thought that might spur your fears:
I may run again in four years.
One more campaign based on “woke”
means I’ll again become a joke.