Trump

Our shores are littered with rubbishMost of us just can’t use:Bedraggled flotsamRejected by an immense indifferent sea.

But now and then, a sparkly thing,A trinket perhaps, shiny but worthlessTurns up to attract the eye of a child,Or a beachcomber.

Holding it close to a heaving breastA lonely soul might find withinThe anima mundi lurking thereTo answer, at last, a fervent prayer

Muttered in a cluttered, darkened room:Lead me from this wilderness of confusionTo a few eternal simple truthsWhich show that men are not created equal,

That men in shithole countries are shitholesAnd women often ask for it,That Jesus would have dodged the crossIf only he had had a gun,

That half the folk who think they knowAre fancy faggots in the endWho can’t work out that simple bleachWill cleanse your lungs and save your soul -

That a leader who was born to leadWould do a deal with God to keepThe planet and the climate clean –And accept from Him the American dream.