TRUMP TRADING CARDS  #2

		When Trump checks his mirror, what does he see?
		A surface image or Herculean depths?
		This second batch of NFTs* gives clues.
		The old porker’s bootlegged frame is lean.
		The face is Trump’s, and easy to recognize--
		except for unlikely expressions:
		kindly smile, serene bearing, dignity.
		Never pouting and fuming,
		scowling with narrowed eyes,
		or name-calling and drawling spiteful slurs.

		Behold: a Trump-faced 14-carat chess piece
		topped with a Medieval golden crown. 
		For scepter, he displays the stars and stripes. 
		He holds the whole world in his other hand.
		Message: man of wealth and winning moves.
		MAGA groupies dote on golden idols.

		He wears an emperor’s crown as King of Hearts, 
		the tarot’s symbol for complete control.
		He finger-frames his heart to show he has one. 
		Donald’s lawyers clog the courts with card tricks,
		and yet he’s been indicted in New York. 

		He’s Elvis, too, the king of rock and roll.
		Sequined cowboy shirt and pompadour,
		guitar at hip, Trump rocks the microphone--
		curls his lip and brays “YMCA”
		better than anyone else has ever brayed it.
		His song-and-dance brings men to tears. Or giggles. 

		Then there’s Donald wild and free, a biker
		garbed in a leather jacket,  with black guitar.
		As he rides, he wails sad country tunes--
		women troubles, jail woes, and his favorite:
		I won, but voters stole the whole election.
			
		Five times this guy’s avoided being drafted,
		but it’s all good!  See “Army Trump” in camo--
		dirty face, a mud-stained combat helmet,
		and plans to call a halt to war in Ukraine
		by letting Russia take all Putin wants.

		Grill-king Donald stands next to his Weber,
		sporting a flag-striped apron, red and white.	
		Hot dogs? Burgers?  Fresh from Mar-a-Lago.
		He waves a spatula in lieu of scepter.
		His next-in-command’s a Labrador Retriever.
		Easier to boss around than turncoat Pence.

		Trump, the symbol-loving super-Patriot,
		holds up the Liberty Bell, his sacred shield.
		The bell deflects attention from his crimes: 
		inciting insurrection on Jan. 6.

		Trump in tricorn hat as Washington
		stands straight and tall in the bow of a painted boat,
		spyglass trained on Stormy Daniels. Wowza!
		His left hand grasps a long sword by the blade—
		but Trumpster never faces consequences.

		The final icon shows Trump in a suit
		next to a flaming force, a gold-crowned lion
		as orange as Donald’s hair,
		who pounces on the planet, sharp claws bared.
		I am lion tamer; also, lion.
		When I rage—watch out!  Ketchup will fly!

		Does Trump picture himself as a fiery lion?
		Founding father? Golden chessman? King?
		If so, who with the sense that God gave geese
		would choose this deluded dude to rule our nation?
		Or spend big bucks to download Donald’s daydreams? 

		Copyright 4/23                Patricia Doyne


                	*Non-fungible tokens