Poetry from Pat Doyne

FLIM-FLAM MAN

Trump sells his brand: his face, his name, his myth.

While running for President, look what he touts on TV—

Silver coins stamped with a younger Trump face.

Digital Trading Cards showing his weathered old head

spliced to slim, muscular trunks in macho costumes.

Bit coin and crypto.

Bibles and sneakers.

T-shirts, of course, but also a genuine relic:

squares of the suit that he wore in that fateful debate

where he trashed Haitian immigrants, claiming:

In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs.”

Racism’s part of his brand, and his brand’s not cheap.

For $100,000, you can buy a Trump watch—

200 grams of gold, 100 real diamonds;

a timepiece for oldsters who need to feel elite.

Yes, Trump will sell anything. Lies turn a tidy profit.

He’s bought the Republican Party, and many in Congress.

Bailed out by bankruptcies, facing jail-time for convictions,

Trump never pays for his capers, never repents.

He’s running for President, scamming his way back to power.

Should we give a flim-flam man a nation to sell?

	

One thought on “Poetry from Pat Doyne

  1. Trump’s trumped up claims and fictitious “conservative” and sanctimonious morally upright falsities; especially when he held a bible in his hand that fateful day when Americans were protesting his dictatorship and were gassed, is well encapsulated in these verses…I was able to achieve his “truest” maladroit spirit and ill intentions.
    Perhaps unbeknownst to him, Karma can be a bigger BITCH! As we say in French, “La vie vous ramassera” or “You will get exactly what you deserve in life”.

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