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Monday, January 2, 2017


In a land where the states are united, they claim,
in a sky-scraping tower adorned with his name,
lived a horrible, terrible, devious chump,
the bright orange miscreant known as the Trump.

This Trump he was mean, such a mean little man,
with the tiniest heart and two tinier hands,
and a thin set of lips etched in permanent curl,
and a sneer and a scowl and contempt for the world.

He looked down from his perch and he grinned ear to ear,
and he thought, “I could steal the election this year!
It’d be rather simple, so easily won,
I’ll just make them believe that their best days are done!
Yes, I’ll make them believe that it’s all gone to Hell,
I’ll be Jerk Messiah -- their souls they will sell.

And I’ll use lots of words disconnected from truth,
but I’ll say them with style so they won’t ask for proof.
I’ll toss random platitudes, phrases, and such,
They’re so raised on fake news that it won’t matter much!
They won’t question the how to, the what, why, or when,
”I will make their America great once again!”

The Trump told them “Fear! Here they come,” he would say,
“They’ve all come for your jobs, they will take them away.
You should fear every Muslim and Mexican too,
every brown, black, and tan one, everyone who votes blue.”

And he fooled all the Christians, he fooled them indeed,
He just trotted out Jesus -- all Jesus folk need.
And celebrity preachers, they crowned him as king,
Tripping over themselves just to kiss the Trump’s ring.

And he spoke those old lies just as if they were true,
Until they believed his new lies were true too.
He repeated and Tweeted and blustered and spit,
And he misled and fibbed—and he just made up sh*t.

And the media laughed but they printed each line,
thinking “He’ll never win, in the end we’ll be fine.”
So they chased every headline, bold-typed every claim,
‘Till the fake news and real news they looked just the same.

And the scared folk who listened devoured each word,
Yes, they ate it all up -- every word that they heard,
petrified that their freedom was under attack,
trusting Donald to take their America back.
From the gays and from ISIS, he’d take it all back,
Take it back from the Democrats, fat cats, and blacks.
And so hook, line, and sinker they all took the bait,
thinking “We’re making America great.”

Now the Pant-suited One she was smart and prepared,
she was brilliant and steady but none of them cared,
no they cared not to see all the work that she’d done,
or the fact that the Trump had not yet done Thing One.
They could only shout “Emails!”, yes “Emails!” they’d shout,
‘cause Fox News had told them—and Fox News had clout.
And the Pant-suited One she was slandered no end,
as a lie became truth she could never defend.
And the Trump watched it all go according to plan—
a woman eclipsed by an insecure man.

And November the 8th arrived, finally it came,
like a slow-moving storm but it came just the same.
And Tuesday was Doomsday before it was through,
And when night turned to morning the nightmare’d come true,
With millions of non-voters still in their beds,
The Donald had done it, just like he had said.

And the Trumpers they trumped, how they trumped when he won,
All the racists and bigots; deplorable ones,
they crawled out from the woodwork, came out to raise Hell,
came out to be hateful and hurtful as well.
With slurs and with road signs, with spray paint and Tweets,
with death threats to neighbors and taunts on the street.
And the grossest of grossness they hurled on their peers,
while the Trump he said zilch—for the first time in years.

But he Tweeted at Hamilton, Tweeted the Times,
And he trolled Alec Baldwin a few hundred times,
and he pouted a pout like a petulant kid,
thinking that was what Presidents actually did,
thinking he could still be a perpetual jerk,
scared to learn he’d have to actually work
for every American, not just a few,
not just for the white ones—there was much more to do.
He now worked for the Muslims and Mexicans too,
for the brown, black, and tan ones, and those who vote blue.
They were all now his bosses, now all had a say,
and those nasty pant-suited ones were here to stay.
And the Donald soon realized he didn’t win,
He had gotten the thing—and the thing now had him.

And it turned out the Trump was a little too late,
for America was already quite great,
not because of the sameness -- the opposite’s true,
It’s greatness far more than just red, white, and blue,
It’s straight, gay, and female—it’s Gentile and Jew,
It’s Transgender, Christian, and Atheist too.
It’s Asians, Caucasians of every kind,
Disabled and abled, the deaf and the blind,
It’s immigrants, Muslims, and brave refugees,
It’s Liberals with bleeding hearts fixed to their sleeves.

And we are all staying, we’re staying right here,
we’ll be the great bane of the Trump for four years.
And we’ll be twice as loud as the loudness of hate,
be the greatness that makes our America great.
And the Trump’s loudest boasts they won’t ever obscure,
Almost three million more of us—voted for her.

By John Pavlovitz

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