Trump, In Verse

When I dream, I dream of sharks.
Electric boats that sink, with sparks.
Windmills spinning, causing cancer.
I ask questions none can answer.

Death by shark, electrocution,
slurring, random elocution,
abortion banned, not just restricted.
Thirty-four times been convicted.

I deny I mocked dead soldiers.
Do I sleep with centerfolds? Sure.
“CLASSIFIED” I hid in *this* pile.
Just one word for Merchan: “MISTRIAL!”

MIT is in my veins.
I go off-script; my flak explains
there’s what I said and what I meant.
I was the greatest President.

Death by predator or battery?
I like people who will flatter me.
My harangues defy explaining.
Clearly, I should cease campaigning.