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Image from Children’s Stories Net

Mr. President and All,

Twas the night before Christmas and all through Mar-a- Lago

The only thing up was an orange tub of lardo.

The servants had hung the stockings with care,

Hoping against hope their overtime would be there.


Ivanka and Jared were snug in their bed

While visions of subpoenas stomped around in their heads.

And Melania in her separate bedroom, and I on my Twitter,

Tossed and turned and tried not to be bitter.


When out on the golf course there arose such a clatter

I sprang up from my throne to see what was the matter.

I ran to the security cam, shaking Secret Service as I ran

Wondering if this was Karmic vengeance for the Muslim ban.


Or if one of the broads with whom I had trifled

Had breached the perimeter with a semi-automatic rifle.

But no figure showed up on the closed circuit TV

And security decided that it was just me.


I wandered around the house in slippers and robe

Wondering how the New Year would unfold.

Would people appreciate my Cut! Cut! Cut?

Would I ever stop talking right out of my butt?


When would I get my full military parade?

Would Fake News stop saying my governing was a charade…

All of this musing was making me sick

So I decide to watch some TV for a tick.


With Kellyanne fast asleep at the foot of my bed

I could flip freely through the channels and keep my ego fed.

But Fake News was all over, on every last station,

According to them, I was destroying the nation.


“Sad!” I yelled, “Wrong! America will be tired of winning!”

When a voice from the TV said “Son, stop your spinning…”

I clicked the remote to change from that show

But the voice insisted there was nowhere to go.


I looked closely at the screen and saw it was Fred,

My dear old father who I thought was long dead.

He stared at me for a minute, looking forlorn

The same look I’ve given Eric since the day he was born.


“Dad, what’s the matter, I’ve done a great thing,

I’ve redecorated the White House with ten times more bling.

I’m trying my best to make America great,

Even taking a page from your book with the hate.”


“I see that, son, and I would be quite proud

If in the midst of your speeches you wouldn’t sniff so loud.

And while we are at it, what is that on your head?

Given my expertise, I’d deem that dog dead!”


“Dad, cut it out, you’re hurting my feelings!

If you were the UN I’d cut off all our dealings!”

My father sneered then, said, “Donny, don’t pout!

Stand up straight, oh my god, you are pretty stout!”


“I am the President!” I angrily shouted,

“Even though you and everyone else doubted!

I went to Russia and with my friend Vlad,

Rigged the election, those lefties were had!”


I took a deep breath for I wasn’t finished,

I recited a list of all the laws I’d diminished.

My dad would now have to admit I was a bigly big deal,

But he simply stared silent at the end of my spiel.


And what to my wondering eyes should appear?

It was not my dead father that much was clear.

It was the actor, James Franco, oh, that ass

Was playing my father with a prosthetic mask!


He looked in the camera and gave me a wink

While some feet behind me I heard a small clink.

Mueller had come from behind the chintz drapes

He was waving the transcripts of the Pee-Pee Tapes.


It turns out those sons-of-bitches had recorded it all.

I doubted if they’d allow me to give Bannon a call.

Sure enough, Bob stepped up with a small pair of cuffs.

Backed up by a group of FBI toughs.


“Turn around Mr. President, and let me just tell you,

You have the right to remain silent, it would be best that you do…”

But when have I ever been one to be quiet,

I let loose my best words in a tremendous word riot!


I called him a lightweight, a phony, and a fool,

A dummy, low-energy, dopey, a tool.

In the middle of my rant, I could swear I heard laughter.

I stopped in mid-insult, to see who was the crafter.


Why it was Hilary Clinton, Comey and Coates,

And I could just make out Noah, Colbert, and Maddow taking notes.

Most of them were using their phones to live stream,

I knew that my haters would create a dank meme.


Melania and Barron were out on the lanai,

Neither one of them would look me in the eye

My story was done; I could only think of quick bail,

And I knew my lawyers couldn’t keep me from jail.


Let me take over, Prez, you are right, you are done.

As the poet, I wish this story was not just for fun.

To the American people, I have one Christmas desire,

That we come together and force the administration to retire.


Until that day comes, treat yourselves with great care,

And as a collective we decide how we fare.

Be strong, be decisive, be true to what’s right.

Happy Resistance to all, and to all a good night.



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