Trump, In Verse

Alexei Navalny – he’s surely a guy whose
life might have been better if he’d purchased my shoes:
those brand-new gold sneakers, called “Never Surrender,”
to outrun his captors, perhaps (odds *were* slender).

I’m hawking my sneakers; it’s kept me quite busy.
(So… Putin’s not this fellow’s murderer – is he?)
I’m huckstering pairs of these high-tops in Philly;
so shiny, and they reinforce heels (Achilles).

Besides that, I’m now peddling Victory cologne:
when I wear it, Melania leaves me alone.
Hints of fraud and sedition, it covers up stink.
(Was my bad-mouthing NATO to blame, do you think?)

I just don’t have time to acknowledge Navalny,
with courtroom appearances, shilling, and all the
rebellion and lawlessness I’ve been accused of.
He stood up to Putin? That I disapprove of.