Donald Trump

Breaking News

We interrupt this poem to bring you reports
of an explosion

of wild untruths and other signs that the news
is broken.

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
beyond borders.

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.

On Learning that I Share My Birthday with Donald J. Trump

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.