We interrupt this poem to bring you reports
of an explosion
of wild untruths and other signs that the news
Early indications from those who were first
on the scene
have led to widespread fears of another Sweden
or Bowling Green
and that peace might erupt at any moment
in other places.
It is believed that amongst the rubble of reality
were found traces
of humanity and an understanding that stretches
Many experts predict this will lead to a new wave
of presidential orders
for such trumped-up charges form part of
a familiar pattern.
But back to the poem: we’ll bring you more news
as it doesn’t happen.
inside his cranium,
a brain to rack,
he found the word
an unclear attack.
My parents always taught me that it’s good to share,
what’s mine is yours and what’s fair is fair,
but now these teachings have taken a bump
since I discovered my shared birthday with Donald J. Trump.
With others there is much that I’m prepared to share —
my thoughts, my friends, my lunch, this chair,
my wi-fi password, my cat, my bicycle pump —
but I will not share my birthday with Donald J. Trump.
So I shall fortify the fourteenth of June,
build a wall to keep out this bigoted loon,
too strong to knock down and too high to jump;
I shall not share my birthday with Donald J. Trump.