Born into money he scarce knew how to keep
Chubby and snarky and often a creep
He fiddled and whittled all he had away
On fast food, women and the golf he would play.
Then one night in he strutted, startling wife number three.
“I’ve got it,” he said, “I know what’s next for me
“King of the whole world is what I will be
“When I sit as the president of the land of the free.”
“Put a sock in it Wussy,” she Slovene-ly said.
“You’re not quick with your brain, nor are you well read
“Your wives, women and money scandals are lore
“You can’t fill the shoes of those there before
“Stick with your beauty pageants and TV shows
“Into the politics, do not poke your nose.”
But in her words, the Wuss heard a dare.
He’d show her, he thought, that he could compare.
The Wuss told his friends, who all thought it funny
But still when he asked, they contributed money.
In new suits, long ties, toupee, and spray tan
He started his campaign all over the land.
Mocking the disabled, maligning the fallen
He disparaged minorities; swore he’d put a wall in
He stirred xenophobia, he fed much race hate
Then surprised even himself and entered the gate.
After four years of his half, quarter and non truths,
Good folks said, “Enough, let’s give him the boot.”
He tweets hate and nonsense, he’s really a louse
He does not deserve to stay in our Wouse.
Ari, Georgy, Penny and Wisk all agreed
They let the other fella and gal take the lead.
When the Wuss heard the news, he was ever so fraught,
“You can’t do this to me. I’ll see you in court.”
He huffed and he puffed, he tweeted and spun,
He refused to admit the other fella had won.
Life outside the Wouse he knew would be bleak
’Cause even his followers wouldn’t want him to speak.
“One spin,” his wife ranted, “you said there’d be two.”
“You called it,” he clapped back, “remember ‘the shoes’
“Didn’t finish the wall, but I’ve built a redoubt
“There’ll be kicking and screaming when they drag me out.”