Trump, In Verse

While I attack Bruce Springsteen, and claim Swift’s no longer “HOT” –
it all serves as distraction: I’ve accomplished diddly-squat.
My bill that’s big and beautiful? The GOP won’t pass it.
And every day in office, what’s my effort? I half-ass it.

From specious claims investments have been made (with suspect math),
I then divert attention, and on Comey turn my wrath:
I claim his pic of seashells is code for assassination;
call him a “dirty cop” while launching an investigation.

All during these kerfuffles, I am hell-bent on ignoring
what the courts have ruled I must do as regards rights, and restoring
constitutional protections, laid out clearly in the law.
Hey… our border there with Canada’s unfair – so let’s redraw!

An ever-growing list of how I’ve handled most things wrong:
and at the top is tariffs, where I seem to play ping-pong.
I make up the percentages; a few days later, switch them.
My friends love this approach since this is how I can enrich them.

I issue proclamations as if I were now a king,
and rant against the way the SCOTUS rules – but here’s the thing:
My losses keep on piling up; my polls are in a nose-dive.
Worst POTUS Ever’s what I’m headed for, straight as the crow flies.