Trump, In Verse

The day of my inauguration: flags just halfway up the pole,
because of Jimmy Carter’s death (though, while we say “God rest his soul,”
while he was still alive, I said: as President, he was the worst –
until Joe Biden came along. Now: Carter 2nd, Biden 1st).

The Democrats are “giddy” over this extended time of mournin’ –
our flag (it’s magnificent) will flutter low while I am sworn in.
None who’s an American is happy; no one wants to see it.
Getting flags up high where they belong brings joy; I guarantee it.

Flying flags at half-staff, while I take the oath, can’t be allowed
since (what I can predict will be) an all-time record-setting crowd
deserves to see the flag in all its majesty most freely wave.
(This time around, perhaps the crowd won’t riot and just might behave.)

Of course, whene’er *I* pass away, the nation will come to a halt;
obituaries listing crimes accused of (but none were my fault).
The MAGA crowd will shed tears in what I’ll call “One Last Day of Love,”
and praise… well, not democracy – but what I left in lieu thereof.