President Donald Trump and first lady Melania Trump greet trick-or-treaters Oct. 25, 2020, on the South Lawn of the White House during a Halloween celebration. (Manuel Balce Ceneta / AP)
This is the latest in my occasional TrumPoems, a rhyming account of the presidency of Donald J. Trump, loosely based, as always, on his words and acts.
It’s midnight in my haunted house—
The White House in D.C.—
A house that’s cursed by COVID
But that doesn’t frighten me.
I won’t give in to terror
Alone with all my scary thoughts
And specters of the dead.
COVID, COVID everywhere—
It got my son and wife!—
But still I will not wear a mask
I’m pro my life as president
Which means I won’t concede
That COVID’s a great killer
And that masks are what we need.
Yeah, yeah, I got the virus
I’m back out on the campaign trail
And superspreading (expletive).
“COVID, COVID, COVID!”
All those lefties bleat the word
They think if they repeat it
That I’ll lose November third.
Turns up white noise machine.
Some nights I wake up clammy
From my awful, haunted dreams
And sometimes I can hear them—
Yes, the Founding Fathers’ screams.
They wave the Constitution
And they cry, “What have you done?!?”
And I pout, “Just having fun.”
The Founding Fathers scold me
But I’ve got a great retort:
“Hey, listen up, you weenies
I have saved the highest court!”
This big old house is full of ghosts
Of goblins, ghouls and haints
Obama creeps around the place
And hisses his complaints.
Abe Lincoln roams the hallways too
A hero who was just like me—
Both saviors of the Blacks!
Oh eek! I think that shadow moved!
C-could it be my nasty niece
And yikes, there’s nasty Hillary
Oh how I hate that witch!
And is that Rudy over there
Still scratching his small itch?
Suburban woman love me, though
Their love restores my hope
Their fear will save me from defeat …
Did someone just say “Nope?”
I heard a curtain rustle!
A demon’s coming toward me ...
The demon’s getting closer
And I think she muttered, “Truth!”
She’ll kill me with that gavel and …
Oh please don’t hurt me, Ruth!
My heart is beating like a drum
Like when I’m watching porn
By porn I just mean Fox TV—
Hey, where’s my candy corn?
Rustles through bedside candy bowl. Harrumphs. Settles for a mini Snickers.
There’s vampires all around me
Cackling, “Happy Halloween!”
There’s Harris in her sneakers
God, that freaky woman’s mean.
Please save me, Lord! It’s Whitmer!
And did Maddow just cry “Boo!”?
These spooks are out to get me …
Stormy Daniels, is that you?
Good God, is that Pete Buttigieg?
He’s risen from the grave?
And could that be Old Fauci
Who pretends that he’s so brave?
And what’s that howling in the dark?
A pack of wolves! The press!
They’re coming for my tax returns
They yap and yammer, “Money fraud!
And where’s his health care plan?”
Thank God I can distract them
With my dance to “Macho Man.”
Stares at ceiling. Opens another mini Snickers. Bites.
Election Day is coming soon
The pollsters say I’ll fail
At least I’ve done the best I could
The Democrats — those socialists —
They want to steal my house
But I am not afraid of them ...
Aieeee! Was that a mouse?
The wind is blowing colder now
But I still have my power
For I rule by clout and fear.
But if I lose, I’ll move abroad
They’ll miss me when I go
They’ll fin’lly learn to love me
When they’re stuck with Sleepy Joe.
But that’s not gonna happen, no!
I’ll keep this house as mine, all mine!
I’ll win by trick or tweet.