Trump, In Verse

Bring on the grits, and collard greens, and sweet potato pie.
No one has done more for you Black Americans than I.
Please serve me some fried chicken and a slice of watermelon.
You folks have sure embraced me – I’m your favorite almost-felon.

Plenty of your people wear my mug shot on a tee.
What’s happened to your faction is now happening to me.
Because I’m charged with crimes, I’ve got most Black folk now behind me –
including Frederick Douglass. (Is he living still? Remind me.)

You can’t vote for Joe Biden – he’s a racist; nasty, vicious.
That’s worse than anything I ever did they call seditious.
I spoke to Black conservatives. The room lights shone so bright,
I said, “I just see Black folks!” to this gathering’s delight.

Past comments on the Five from Central Park, also George Floyd,
would make it seem I’m someone Black electors would avoid.
I got a warm reception from this conclave I addressed –
but how the hell could they buy-in when I say I’m oppressed?